Life Lessons
by xaprilshowersx
Summary: <html><head></head>AU Brittana. Eighteen year old Brittany is tired of her homeschooled life and needs a tutor to help her graduate. Santana Lopez is a high school senior looking for a distraction. Their paths cross and they both learn more than they could ever have imagined.</html>
1. Lesson 1: Dance is the answer

_**Hi guys, **_

_**This is an idea I've had for a while now and hopefully it's something original. Enjoy! **_

_**P.s. Reviews are almost as good as cupcakes so please review if you have time, thank you :)**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Glee characters featured in this fic. **_

"Mom, I'm tired of looking at this scrapbook. Can I go do something else?" Brittany said with a sigh, peeling the dried glue off of her fingers and flicking it into the trashcan underneath her desk. She'd been staring at the same two pages for an hour being unable to decide which picture fitted best with which patterned background. Originally she'd thought that the image of her snorkelling in Dubai would look best with the blue background but then she'd become distracted with the idea of maybe contrasting the colors and now she just didn't know. She didn't even really care.

"Please?" She prompted when her mother didn't answer.

"What was that, honey?" The older blonde asked, looking up from her knitting needles and peering at Brittany over the top of her slightly oversized glasses. Brittany hadn't said anything but they secretly reminded her of the ones that Velma from Scooby Doo wore. But her mother was most definitely not like Velma. Not at all. Velma was smart and sensible and well, normal. And Elizabeth Pierce was anything but. She'd married young, just after her seventeenth birthday to a man she'd met while taking a gap year on a small Greek island that no one had ever heard of. He'd been a few years older, with long hair and pale blue eyes. He'd wanted to be a writer. And a musician. And a painter. A free spirit, as Elizabeth would say. He'd managed to sweep the young blonde off her feet and they'd engaged in a whirlwind romance, spending their days frolicking on the beaches and their evenings sat around campfires with a group of hippies who lived in the same youth hostel as them.

Three months later they were back in Ohio, married and expecting a baby. Once Brittany was born, her father realized that settling down wasn't what he was ready for. Bills and lawn mowing and working in an office were not his idea of fun. So when Brittany was two years old, he upped and left. Just like that. Leaving Elizabeth to bring their child up alone.

Elizabeth had never quite found it within herself to grow up after that. She held onto her childish ways with both hands, fearful that if she let go, the responsibilities of both motherhood and adulthood would overwhelm her. Instead, she focused all of her attention on Brittany, even going so far as to homeschool her to protect her from the real world. She didn't want her daughter shut up in classrooms all day every day, having useless facts force-fed to her by people who were barely qualified to do so. She didn't need an A grade student for a daughter. She didn't need her to spend hours on homework every night. She needed another free spirit. Just like the one she'd lost.

With the help of her parents, she'd taken Brittany all over the world. They'd seen Broadway shows in New York, they'd been on safari in South Africa, had afternoon tea in England, visited the catacombs in Paris, snorkelled in Dubai. You name it, they'd done it. Life lessons and life experience should be top of the education system, according to Elizabeth.

"Can I please do something else?" Brittany repeated whilst having to physically stop herself from rolling her eyes.

"What do you want to do instead?"

She shrugged and closed the scrapbook, not caring if the glue was dry or not. She didn't want to do anything that involved her mother or her schoolwork. Not that all of this could really count as schoolwork. She was well aware that this was not the kind of thing her friends at dance class were learning about. They were always talking about algebra and trigonometry and biology. Brittany didn't even know how to spell those words, let alone know what they actually were. She rubbed her forehead and stood up, being careful not to stand on any of the travel guides that littered the floor. She stayed for a second, waiting for her mother's permission to leave but Elizabeth was already once again completely absorbed in her knitting. She sighed quietly and left the room. She ran up the stairs, taking two at a time and let the relief wash over her as she shut her bedroom door. There was only so much of her mother she could take these days. She wasn't sure why. She thought maybe it was something to do with getting older. She was pretty certain that other eighteen year olds did not spend this much time hanging out with their moms.

She opened her closet and began searching through the piles of brightly colored clothes until she spotted her dance leggings. She pulled them out and put them on whist simultaneously scanning the piles for a shirt to wear. She settled on a light pink tank that she liked but almost always forgot that she owned. And she knew for a fact that she hadn't yet worn it to dance class yet this year so that was a bonus.

Pulling her blonde hair into a tight ponytail, she checked her bag for her water bottle and dance shoes. Both were already still there from last week so she picked up her bag, swinging it over her shoulder and walked down the stairs and out of the front door, just about remembering to yell a quick goodbye before she closed it behind her.

Freedom at last.

Dance class for Brittany was like stepping out into the fresh air after being locked in a basement for twenty years. Every time she set foot in that studio it was like it was breathing new life into her. Everything from the smell of the room to the sound of her shoes on the soft wooden floors filled her senses and she could breathe again. Her fingers would tingle and goosebumps would appear on her arms and legs and for the three two that she spent there, she knew she was exactly where she should be. Where she needed to be.

Tonight, being so eager to leave the house, she was the first one to arrive at the studio. The lights were on, presumably the lady who taught baby ballet had forgotten to turn them off, and Brittany smiled to herself. She very rarely got to see the studio like this. Empty and quiet and all hers. She kicked off her shoes quickly and placed her phone on the speakers, selecting a piece of soft contemporary music before positioning herself in front of the most central mirror. Breathing in deeply, she centred her core and placed her feet in fifth position. Arms in first. Chin up, shoulders down. Stepping back on her right foot she lowered herself into demi plié before pushing up into relevé and launching herself into eight consecutive pirouettes followed by the same amount of fouette turns. She whipped her head around quickly to avoid getting dizzy and she couldn't help but smile at the way her body relaxed into the movements. The more she turned, the easier it became. She could do this forever.

Well. Technically she couldn't. Because before long her supporting leg grew weak and she found herself slowing down, being careful to ensure that after her last turn she landed in fourth position demi plié without wobbling. Only when she was completely still did she realize that her breathing was rapid and shallow and she could literally hear her own heart beating in her head.

A few slow claps sounded from the entrance to the studio and Brittany whipped around, startled by the sound and almost a little embarrassed that someone might have seen her.

"Bravo, Miss Pierce." Her dance teacher smiled, leaning slightly against the half open studio door. Brittany could just make out a few colored leotards and ballet buns standing behind the teacher and she felt herself blush. She didn't like to be seen practising.

"Um, thanks." She managed to say, albeit a little breathlessly. She dropped her eyes to the floor, biting back the smile that she could feel toying with the corners of her mouth. It was very rare to get a compliment from Miss Lytton, let alone an actual applause.

"Did you all see that, girls?" The teacher had turned around and was speaking to the group of students standing just behind her. Brittany saw them nod. "Good. That's how you should all be turning."

There was a chorus of "Yes, Miss Lytton" as the teacher moved aside to allow the girls to file into the room and take their places at the ballet bar for the impending warm up. Brittany collected her phone quickly, tossing it into her bag before moving to the girls.

"Good job, Britt." Dinah smiled, genuinely pleased for her friend.

"Yeah," Natasha added, "That was amazing."

"Thanks." Brittany said, grinning at both girls. Out of the twenty girls here, she considered these two to be her best friends. Dinah had started here at the same time as Brittany. They'd both been four years old and had attended their first ever class together, dressed in matching pink leotards and tutus. They'd both cried when their mothers had left and they'd ended up holding hands for the whole hour. Dancing together for fourteen years meant that they knew each other inside out and Brittany wouldn't have it any other way.

Natasha, on the other hand, had only been dancing her for the past year and she was by far the youngest student in the class. She was ten but she'd pretty much devoted every day of her life to dance for the past seven years so she was already better than most of the teenagers there. She was smart too. Not the kind of smart that you get from being stuck in a classroom all day everyday but the kind of smart that came with the innocence of being a kid. Brittany liked that. It was the one thing that she really, truly understood.

Miss Lytton worked them hard for the first hour of class, having them do turn after turn until each of the girls had done it perfectly at least twice. By the time the teacher called a water break, Brittany's head was spinning and she had to wipe the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand.

"I actually might throw up." Dinah complained, falling dramatically to the floor by the gym mats and throwing her arms over her face to block out the bright lights.

"Me too." Brittany groaned, sitting down next to her and sipping her water slowly.

Natasha, still somehow full of energy, stretched beside them.

"I really do not understand what the big deal with turns is," Dinah mused, "I mean, are they really that important?"

Brittany shrugged and waited for Natasha to launch into some kind of explanation which, of course, she did almost immediately.

Brittany switched off, letting her eyes roam over the other dancers. A few were stretching at the ballet bar, some were standing around sipping water and nibbling on granola bars. A couple of the girls who Brittany knew were the same age as her were sitting in the furthest corner of the studio, heads bent over thick looking textbooks. Studying.

Of course. It was almost time for mid-terms. At least, she thought it was. She couldn't really be sure since shed never actually done any mid-terms. She'd never taken any exams at all. Not even a spelling test.

She felt a soft sigh escape her lips as she gazed longingly at the two girls, wanting to know desperately what they were studying and why they were studying and how they managed to remember all of that information with all of its confusing sentences and big words. She wanted to know what they knew. She wanted to be stressing out over exams like they were. Because that was normal. She needed normal.

She wandered briefly if maybe she did already know some of that stuff. She knew all about animals and places and languages. She knew how to dive and how to ski and how to communicate with the tribes in the deepest south of Africa.

"Hey, D?" She said, suddenly feeling brave. "Could you test me?"

"Sure, Britt. What do you want me to test you on? Dance terms? Foot positions?"

Brittany shook her head. "No, I mean like, a real test. About numbers and words and stuff."

"You mean like a pop quiz?"

She shrugged. She wasn't entirely sure what that was but it sounded kinda like a test. "Sure."

"Okay.." Dinah said, pulling out her phone and searching google for the best online pop quizzes. "You ready?"

Brittany nodded, rubbing her palms together, a little surprised at how nervous she was.

"What is the capital of Scotland?"

The capital? Brittany frowned. "Does that mean, like, the capital letter?"

She watched as Dinah glanced at Natasha, eyebrows slightly raised.

"No, Britt. The capital city."

"What?"

The two girls exchanged concerned glances again and Brittany felt her cheeks start to burn.

"Okay, let's try another one." Dinah said quickly, not wanting to embarrass Brittany any further. "If x equals 4, what does two x squared equal?"

Brittany's mouth fell open a little. She had no idea what any of that meant. She'd never heard letters and numbers be used like that before.

"I don't.." She started, "I mean.."

She was lost for words. She couldn't even understand the question, let alone attempt to figure out an answer. She dropped her eyes to the floor as she felt them fill with the threat of tears. She was so stupid. Why couldn't she understand anything? She bit her lip and swallowed hard, not wanting to make an even bigger fool of herself by crying in front of her friends.

"I have an idea!" Natasha said through a mouthful of apple. "You could get a tutor!"

Brittany stared at her blankly.

"A what?"

"You know, someone who teaches you stuff." Dinah smiled.

"Oh. That'd be cool. Where do I get one from?"

"My sister is a senior. She could teach you." Natasha said.

Brittany shrugged and mumbled a quick thank you. She wasn't thrilled with the idea and she knew her mother would most certainly not be but she wanted to learn and she couldn't do it by herself so she guessed a tutor was better than nothing.

The next hour of the class passed quickly but Brittany's heart wasn't in it. By the time Miss Lytton told them to cool down and pack away their things, she was just about ready to sleep for a week. Her head hurt from all the spinning and thinking and her clothes clung uncomfortably to her too warm body.

She was dragging her feet on the way out of the studio, not looking forward to the fifteen minute walk home when Natasha bounded up to her, backpack bouncing up and down on her small shoulders and small sections of her hair flying out of her ballet bun. She grabbed Brittany's hand and tugged on it lightly.

"Come meet my sister." The little girl smiled, pulling Brittany over to a shiny, red car. Leaning against the hood was a girl of about the same age as Brittany, dressed in a tight pencil skirt that stopped just above her knees and a white blouse open at the neck. Her hair was thick and reached her waist. Brittany liked the way the low evening sun made it shine. Kinda looked like glitter and she kinda wanted to touch it.

The girl pushed herself off the hood just as Natasha and Brittany stopped in front of her. Brittany had to hold her breath to keep from gasping because the girl was even prettier close up. Her skin was the same color as Natasha's, reminding her of really, really milky hot chocolate with a shot of rich caramel syrup but her eyes were way darker. Almost black.

Brittany made herself smile politely, trying not to make it too obvious that she was completely and utterly distracted by the girls high cheekbones and perfectly shaped eyebrows and lips painted the same color as her car.

"San, this is Brittany." Natasha said.

"Santana Lopez. Hi." The girl smiled, extending her hand. Brittany caught her cool fingers in her own warm palm and smiled back. "Brittany Pierce."

"Britt needs a tutor."

"That's nice." Santana said, patting her younger sister on the head. "But we need to go because I'm hungry and we need dinner."

"But you'll be her tutor, right?" Natasha asked, grabbing Santana's hand as the older girl turned to get into the car.

"What? No. I don't have time, Nat."

"Yes you do! You have after school and the weekends and stuff!"

"Yeah and when do you think I do all of my studying, huh?"

Natasha shrugged and pouted, folding her arms across her chest.

"It's okay," Brittany said, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. "You don't need to."

"Yes she does." Natasha mumble under her breath.

"She really doesn't, Nat. It's totally fine." Brittany squeezed the younger girls shoulder gently.

Santana offered a small sympathetic smile to the blonde before turning to her little sister. "C'mon kid, home time."

She opened the passenger door for Natasha who threw her bag onto the backseat before climbing in and slamming the door dramatically. Santana rolled her eyes and a small, amused giggle escaped her mouth. Brittany couldn't help but smile.

She turned to walk away, not wanting to bug the girl any more than she already had done but Santana spoke again before she could.

"Need a ride home?"

"Me?" Brittany asked, gesturing to herself.

"No, the imaginary girl stood next to you."

"Oh." Brittany said, disappointed, and turned to walk away again.

"What the f- yes, you, Brittany."

"But you said-"

"I was kidding." Santana said, trying not to smile. "Get in the car."

"Kay." Brittany giggled, scooting into the back seat. She took a deep breath. Santana's car smelled like mints and leather. It was nice.

Natasha and Brittany kept up the conversation for the first ten minutes of the journey, discussing just how many species of fish they thought there might be in the whole ocean. Santana made a quick witted remark here and there but otherwise kept quiet, choosing instead to glance at the blonde in her back seat via the rear view mirror every couple of minutes when she was sure the girl wasn't looking in her direction. She seemed different somehow. More innocent than the girls she knew. Maybe it was the way her cheeks glowed a light pink, the intensity of the dance class still visible in her vanilla complexion. Or maybe it was the way blonde hairs fell loosely around her face, having escaped from her ponytail. Or perhaps it was the way she was managing to interact with her little sister who usually was so absorbed in her dance practises that sometimes she found it difficult to even get a few sentences out of her. Brittany and Natasha bounced off of each other and spoke quickly as if there wouldn't possibly be enough time to discuss everything they wanted to discuss even if they could have sat in this car together for the next three hundred years.

"Wanna come to our place for dinner?" Santana heard Natasha ask Brittany.

"Um.." Brittany started to say, unsure of whether it was okay to accept that kind of offer from a ten year old.

"San, is that okay?" Natasha asked.

"Of course." The brunette said, even surprising herself with just how certain she sounded in her response. "That'd be cool." She smiled into the rear view mirror, managing to catch Brittany's eye.

"Thank you." The blonde girl said, smiling back with genuine gratitude in her eyes. She'd never been to a friend's house for dinner before. In fact, she'd never been to a friend's house, period.

_**Thanks for reading! The next chapter will be posted very, very soon. **_


	2. Lesson 2: Bandaging burns

_**Sorry this one took so long guys, life got in the way but f you read and reviewed the last chapter, thank you so much! Your reviews really mean a lot to me. And thank you for coming back to read the next chapter, enjoy! **_

The Lopez house was huge. Like, Brittany literally didn't know how anyone could ever have enough money to buy a house like this. Their driveway was bigger than the whole of her house and yard put together. She stared out of the window, mouth open slightly, as Santana pulled the car to a stop a few feet away from the front door.

"Home, sweet home, chicas." Santana said, turning off the engine and pushing her door open. Both girls were already half way out of the car before Brittany even managed to unplug her seatbelt.

"Hurry up, Britt." Natasha giggled, opening Brittany's door and pulling on her hand.

"Coming." Brittany smiled, getting out and following the little girl towards the open front door. Santana had already disappeared inside and Natasha babbled mindlessly about dogs and dinner as they both stood in the hallway, clinging onto one another, trying to remove their shoes without falling over.

"Nat, do you have homework?" Santana's voice echoed around the long hallway but Brittany wasn't quite sure which direction it had come from.

"Yeah."

"Go do it."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Can Brittany come do it with me?" The little girl called, pulling a neatly doodled on folder out of her backpack.

"Nope. You gotta do it by yourself, kid."

"Please?"

"No."

Natasha sighed and began to climb the stairs. "Sorry, Britt. You'll have to go hangout with my meanie of a sister."

"I heard that!" Santana called again, making the two girls giggle.

"Go find her," Natasha said to Brittany. "She'll be in the kitchen."

"Um.." Brittany looked towards the long hallway, working out that there must be at least six doors on either side of it. The walls were filled with family photos, some old, some recent and she knew she'd be so distracted by them that she would most definitely not be able to find the kitchen on her own.

"Third on the left." Natasha giggled having noticed Brittany's hesitation.

"Thanks." Brittany said, watching Natasha bound up the stairs.

She took a deep breath and began walking. One door. She walked past it, noticing that it had been left slightly ajar. She couldn't see inside but she could vaguely smell dog. Maybe that's what Natasha had been talking about. Two doors. This door was completely open, revealing a huge grand piano and several guitars and some instruments that Brittany didn't even know what to call. It looked amazing. She decided there and then that she could quite happily spend a whole day in there just staring at those instruments.

The next door she came to was only half open, giving her a cut off view of the room. She could see cupboards, half a table, a few matching chairs. She knocked the door gently.

"Come in."

She poked her head around the side of the door, pushing it open a little further so that she could see Santana stood at the oven, wooden spoon in hand and hair pulled back into a low pony. She was a good few inches shorter than Brittany now that she'd removed her high heeled boots.

"Hi," Brittany squeaked before clearing her throat.

"Are you gonna just stand there all day?" Santana asked coolly, not even bothering to turn around.

"No." Brittany almost whispered, stepping inside the room and sitting down on the first seat she came to. An uncomfortable silence settled over them for a moment, Santana too distracted by whatever she was cooking and Brittany couldn't think of a sensible conversation starter. She twisted her hands together in her lap.

"So," Santana said finally much to Brittany's relief. "You need a tutor?"

Brittany nodded. "Yeah, I mean, I just need someone to teach me stuff so I can graduate." Santana turned to look at her when she spoke.

"Aren't you gonna graduate anyway? Or are the teachers in your school really that shitty?" There was a soft rasp in the Latinas voice and she coughed gently to clear it.

"Um," Brittany felt heat rise to her cheeks and she dropped her eyes to stare at her twisted fingers. "My mom is my teacher."

"Woah. That must suck."

"Kinda." Brittany mumbled.

"Which school does she teach at? I haven't seen you guys around here before." The brunette stood on tiptoes to reach into a cupboard positioned high up on the wall in front of her and Brittany couldn't help but notice how solid her calf muscles looked. That was something Brittany was all too familiar with. Dancer muscles. She answered Santana's question flippantly, momentarily caught up in curious thoughts of the possibility of Santana being a dancer too. She wandered which dance school she went to. She hadn't seen her at any competitions before. She was pretty sure she would've remembered if she had. Maybe she went to one of those non-competitive schools.

"Wait, what?" Santana had turned to face the blonde, wooden spoon in hand and a small crease in her brow.

"Huh?" Brittany couldn't even remember the question, let alone what her answer had been.

"You don't go to school?"

Brittany shook her head.

"Why the hell not?" Santana asked, her voice raising an octave. Her face creased with visual confusion, making her look like she'd never heard anything so ridiculous in her whole life. Her dramatic reaction had Brittany biting back an amused smile.

"My mom doesn't agree with the education system. She thinks force-feeding facts to kids in classrooms shelters them from the real world and kills their imaginations."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." The Latina scoffed before launching into a very animated, highly passionate and slightly amusing speech about how the government set up the education system for a good reason and that anyone who had a problem with it should take it up with someone of a high enough status to be able to change it instead of pulling their kids out of school without considering the consequences.

Brittany didn't understand some of the big words the brunette was using but she liked how passionate she was. And how smart she was. Smart people intrigued her and she decided she would be quite happy to listen to Santana rant for the rest of her life.

She tried her best to keep up and made an attempt to nod encouragingly in all of the right places but the room was quickly being filled with the bitter smell of burning pasta and it was becoming increasingly distracting.

Santana, too caught up in her opinions, had failed to notice. Before the blonde could interrupt, thick smoke began rising from the stove behind Santana.

The brunette must have noticed the alarm in Brittany's eyes because she stopped mid-word and whipped around to stare at the smoking mess that was once a pan of pasta.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Brittany stood immediately to help but a yelp from Santana and the sound of metal falling to the floor had her jumping out of the way before she could.

"Ow, fucking shit!" Santana cursed loudly, holding her burnt palm to her chest.

"Crap, are you okay?"

"Yeah." Santana mumbled. "Fine."

"Let me see." Brittany said quietly, unconvinced. She pulled out the nearest chair and gestured for Santana to sit down.

"I'm fine, honestly. It's nothing." The brunette tried to step around Brittany, moving towards the mess on the floor but the taller girl caught her gently by the shoulders and maneuvered her into the seat. Santana huffed quietly but the blonde was too preoccupied by the way her fingers tingled where they met Santana's bare skin to notice.

"Can I please see?" Brittany asked again, crouching down in front of the Latina and taking her wrist gently into her own hand.

Santana watched cautiously at first but eventually relaxed her arm and let Brittany lower it to eye level. The brunette uncurled her fingers, revealing a think pink welt with a white center stretching from one side pf her palm to the other. Unfazed by the wound, Brittany calmly found a towel and held it under the tap until it was as cold as the faucet would allow. She squeezed it to avoid drips and squatted in front of Santana again.

"Is it bad?" Santana asked quickly and it was only then that Brittany realised the brunette was half turned away, eyes squeezed shut. Brittany had to bite her tongue to silence the giggle that she could feel rising in her throat.

"You'll live." She smiled.

She checked the wound again for blistering but it seemed to be okay for the moment. She was good with burns. She'd helped her mom treat a little girl in South Africa who'd severely burned the soles of her feet after accidentally standing on a scorching hot sheet of metal. She know what to check for and she could see that although Santana's burn was bad enough and would probably leave a scar, it definitely could've been much worse.

"Hold still." She said quietly as she began to wrap the damp cloth around Santana's palm.

The brunette winced a little when Brittany increased the pressure slightly. Santana kept her eyes away from her hand and instead focused her attention on the girl in front of her. She noticed how her soft bangs had grown just a millimeter too long, causing them to rest gently just above the curve of her eyelashes. A few strands stuck to the dark blonde lashes and moved in perfect unison each time she blinked. Brittany glanced up then, catching Santana staring but the Latina couldn't bring herself to look away. She smiled softly instead, not being able to resist. Brittany smiled back briefly before returning to her task.

"Do you have a first aid box?" She asked as she secured the cloth.

"Cupboard under the sink, left hand side." Santana said softly, her voice rasping again. She cleared her throat, a smile still playing with the corners of her mouth.

She watched Brittany pull the small white box from the cupboard. The blonde then placed it on the table and began digging through its contents, pulling out bandages, pink band aids that belonged to Natasha, anti-septic cream and aloe-vera gel. She lined them up neatly on the table in order of application.

"Now all we have to do is wait for the cloth to take the heat out of the burn." Brittany smiled and tightened her pony.

Brittany busied herself with cleaning up the singed mess on the floor while Santana used her good hand to grab her cell.

"Hi, yeah. I'm gonna need two pizzas." There was a brief pause. "Um, hold on." She held the phone to her chest to cover the speaker. "Brittany, what's your pizza order."

"Oh, um… Hawaiian. Please." Brittany was a little shocked. No one had ever ordered food for her before. It was kinda nice.

Santana nodded and Brittany smiled to herself. She finished the cleaning and crouched in front of the Latina again just as she was putting her phone down. Brittany began to slowly unwrap the damp cloth. Hoping that the instant and constant cold would have helped to soothe the burn.

She used her index finger to gently apply the anti-septic cream followed by the aloe-vera only stopping briefly when Santana flinched or sucked air in through her teeth much louder than necessary. If she hadn't been concentrating so hard, Brittany might have giggled.

She finished by gently wrapping the bandage around Santana's palm and secured it with two of the pink band aids.

"Tadaaa." Brittany stepped back to admire her work.

Santana looked too, trying to process the almost impossible amount of kindness that had just been shown to her by a girl she barely knew. She let it warm her insides just a little. "Thank you."

* * *

><p>The three girls ate their pizza in the large living room. Brittany was extra careful not to spill anything, the bright white couch a constant reminder that the Lopez household was nothing like her own. Brittany's living room was filled with mismatched furniture, years worth of clumsy childhood stains covered with thick blankets and an abundance of brightly coloured cushions. Every room in her house was filled with photographs and scrapbooks and newspaper cuttings. 'Organised chaos', as her mom liked to call it and Brittany had realised long ago that that really was the only way to describe it. It wasn't messy. Just warmly, charmingly full.<p>

Santana's house was very, very different. Everything was clean and straight and in its place and Brittany didn't think she'd seen an abandoned magazine or crooked lampshade the whole time she'd been here.

"Your house is really nice." Brittany said, wiping her greasy fingers carefully on the floral napkin Natasha had given to her.

"Thanks." The sisters chorused together, sounding so alike that it took Brittany a second to differentiate between the two voices.

"Our parents are doctors so they kinda get paid a lot." Natasha added through a mouthful of pizza.

"Mmm," Santana agreed, swallowing her food before speaking, "Also means they're not here a lot. Or like, ever."

Brittany wanted to ask why but the way the Latina mumbled the last part and picked at her pizza told her not to. Natasha seemed to pick up on it too because she quickly grabbed the remote and turned the tv volume up, glancing sideways at her sister, to mask the awkward silence that had suddenly settled over them.

They finished their pizza like that; sat in a line on the couch each pretending to watch the tv show.

* * *

><p>Driving Brittany home proved to be way more of a challenge than Santana thought it would be. Brittany was not great at giving directions and Santana was equally as bad at following them. Between them, they'd managed to take the longest route back to Brittany's house they could possibly find and combined with the limited use of Santana's injured hand, it had taken them much longer than it should've done. Santana deeply regretted leaving Natasha with their neighbours because she was pretty sure that a ten year old would've been better at navigating her way around google maps than both of them put together.<p>

"Are you kidding?" Santana groaned when Brittany instructed her t turn into the next street on the right. "This street is literally ten minutes away from my house."

"Then why has it taken us…" Brittany checked the time on her phone. "Over half an hour to get here?" She giggled.

Santana rolled her eyes playfully and smiled despite herself. "Because we're both shit at directions, Brittany. Completely shit."

Brittany laughed properly this time, the sound bubbling out of her throat so beautifully that Santana almost forgot to breathe. She'd never heard anyone laugh like that before. Brittany laughed like everything was right with the world. Like her soul was free of every dark thought. She laughed with the innocence of a child and the hopefulness of a dreamer.

Santana blinked herself back to the real world as Brittany leant over into the backseat to grab her bag, the tail end of a giggle oozing from her as she did.

Santana pulled the car to a stop in front of Brittany's house.

"Thanks, Santana. I had fun." The blonde smiled and turned to get out of the car.

"Wait," Santana reached out to touch her arm and Brittany stopped, turning back to look at her. Santana took a deep breath as quietly as she could. "I'll be your tutor."

She didn't know why she said it. She didn't want to be a tutor and she sure as hell didn't want to spend all of her free time going over things she'd already learned at school but Brittany had made her smile more in a couple of hours than she had in months. She was happy tonight and she wanted more of it.

"Really? Are you serious?" The blonde bounced in her seat ad Santana couldn't help but smile. Again.

Without warning, Brittany threw her arms around Santana's neck and hugged her so close that the Latina could feel the blonde girls heart beating in time with her own. The closeness made her feel wonderful and awkward and happy and uncomfortable all at the same time. A small part of her wanted to melt into the embrace and stay there forever but something stronger had her patting Brittany's back awkwardly as she tried not to think about how amazingly sweet her hair smelled.

"Woah, ever heard of personal space?" Santana said, regretting the words as soon as they left her mouth. A reflex action. She instantly hated herself for it but she just wasn't used to… whatever this was.

Luckily, Brittany was too caught up in her excitement to notice. She released Santana in order to launch into a speech babbled so quickly that Santana only managed to figure out fifty percent of what she was saying. Tomorrow night, six o'clock. That was all she got. She nodded with a tight smile hoping to God that Brittany couldn't hear the way her heart was hammering so hard in her chest that it was taking everything she had to not put her hand over it to hold it still and begin a series of calming deep breaths.

Brittany finished and Santana forced herself to nod and smile and say goodbye.

She wanted to stay and watch the blonde walk up the driveway but she didn't let herself. Instead she started the engine quickly and drove away, trying to convince herself that she'd just checked her rear view mirror twice in the last six seconds as a driving precaution, not because she was desperate for one last glimpse of blonde hair and tight dance leggings.

She sighed at herself and drummed her fingers harshly on the steering wheel, unable to rid herself of the image of the blonde sat quietly, bandaging up her injured hand with so much care and attention that made it seem like for those few minutes, the pink burn was the only thing in the world that mattered to Brittany.

She glanced at the bandage, still perfectly intact and shook her head at herself, annoyed by the continued rapid beating of her heart.

"Dammit, Lopez." She mumbled under her breath. "Not again."

_**Thanks for reading guys! Please review if you have time :)**_


	3. Lesson 3: Smoke won't help

_**A quick update this time! I'm on Christmas break now so the updates should be more frequent :) **_

_**Hope you enjoy, please review if you have time!**_

Santana took the long way home from Brittany's, mainly to avoid the little sister and piles of homework waiting for her but also because she wanted to stop off at the store. By the time she'd parked her car and stepped out into the warm evening air, her heart had just about returned to normal. She toyed with the bandage as she walked into the store, her eyes immediately searching for the cigarettes. She'd run out two days ago and hadn't been alone long enough to buy anymore since. She dragged her fingers along the white boxes, looking for the one with the least gruesome picture printed on the front. She understood the health implications but seeing a charred pair of lungs every time she looked inside her purse was not her idea of fun.

She was hovering between two boxes when the door opened.

"Well, well, well. Always wondered where you got that raspy voice, Lopez."

His voice made her clench her fists. Refusing to look up, she scowled intently at the full shelves. "Go away, Puck."

"Can't. Need to grab myself a couple of cans." He moved closer and she held her breath, not wanting him to pick up on her anxiety. She was waiting for him to touch her but he walked right past. She glanced up briefly, realizing that he had actually been moving towards the beer, not her. She cursed herself internally, annoyed by how easily he could rattle her.

He saw her looking and held up the cans of beer as evidence. "Don't worry, Lopez. I won't be making that mistake again."

"Excuse me?"

"You. You aren't as good as you used to be, kiddo."

Santana felt the hairs on her neck bristle as fury rose within her. How dare he. She fought back the urge to claw his eyes out and instead picked up a pack of cigarettes, twirling it neatly between her thumb and forefinger. She let her eyes meet his and she raised an eyebrow at his smirk.

"That's not what you said two weeks ago, Noah." She kept her voice smooth and stepped towards him, close enough so only he would hear her. "You were practically begging for it."

She saw his hands ball into fists.

"You came onto me, Santana." He hissed. That was true.

"I was drunk." She shrugged. "And if you think I'd touch you while sober, you are delusional. I wouldn't fuck you sober if you were the last man on earth." She growled into his ear. That was also true. She'd been weak and he was there. It was just sex. "And…" She started again, "Having sex with you just made me even more certain that I am, and always will be, a lesbian. So I suggest you leave me the hell alone."

With that, she threw at the correct change at the cashier and stormed out into the night without looking back.

Her hands shook slightly as she drove home and she felt the need to shower for at least a week. Just seeing him made her feel dirty. Like she'd done something wrong. She hadn't, of course. And neither had he. They slept together because in that moment, they'd wanted to. He wanted to because he was trying to get over Quinn and she wanted to because it would stop her thinking about everything else. She'd been so ridiculously drunk that she'd literally thrown herself at him. He was an old friend. She was comfortable with him and it had been all too easy.

It had been all too easy to let him lead her upstairs. All too easy to fall into bed with him. All too easy to forget everything else. It was only afterwards, when he was snoring and she was wide awake that she began to regret it. Her skin had crawled with the thought of how easily she could revert back to old habits. She could still see him so clearly, lying there dead to the world. Beads of sweat still clustered on his forehead. She'd seen it so many times before. She knew he'd be gone by the time she woke up in the morning. They were always gone.

Until Dani came along, she'd slept with more guys than she cared to count. At the time she didn't know why she did it. She just thought it was cool and she liked the way people talked about her. Because to her, being called a slut was better than being called what she actually was. And then, she discovered real life girls. Not just the beautiful girls in movies but actual real life girls who lived in her town.

Dani was the first person to make her feel loved. Like she was worthy of more than just sex. And finally she began to feel comfortable with who she was. Who she really was. She no longer needed to prove herself one way or another. She didn't have secrets to keep or thoughts to numb.

Dani had saved her. But she'd also ruined her all over again.

And now here she was. Driving home alone to an array of responsibilities that in no way belonged to her, unlit cigarette in hand and an emptiness in her chest.

* * *

><p>Santana was awake before her alarm started but she let it play anyway, not wanting to silence the room again. She'd spent the best part of the night fighting thoughts of Puck and Dani and anything related to feelings whatsoever. She'd been downstairs for snacks, water, extra blankets, clean socks, all at regular intervals just to avoid having her mind wander and now, at six thirty in the morning, she couldn't even bring herself to regret it.<p>

She turned over and began to sit up, letting the blankets slip from her shoulders into an untidy pile on the mattress. As she pushed herself up, a pain in her hand made her flinch and she glanced down at it, noticing that there was a pale stain on the bandage that Brittany had so neatly applied the night before. "Gross." She mumbled, turning her palm back over and ignoring the throbbing sensation as she drifted out onto the balcony, grabbing the cigarette packet and lighter on her way.

She let herself lean against the railings, enjoying how the early morning sun settled and danced gently on the surface of the pool below. Placing the cigarette in her mouth, she lit it gently and inhaled until the back of her throat burned and her stomach tingled with familiar comfort. She held the smoke in for a few seconds longer than necessary and then released it slowly, watching it rise in thin wisps that quickly got caught up in the slight breeze, before disappearing into nothing. She glanced at her bandaged hand again, thoughts of the blonde girl creeping in and making her shudder. Brittany was sweet but she wouldn't allow herself to like her like that. She wasn't ready for that kind of inevitable pain yet. Not again. She frowned slightly at the bandage before shoving her hand into her loose sweatpants pocket, tired of seeing it and tired of thinking about it. She took a more forceful drag on the cigarette this time and prepared to release it.

"Santana?"

Natasha's voice floated through the open doors so unexpectedly that it had Santana jumping backwards into the edge of an outdoor table as the still lit cigarette fell from her fingers. She opened her mouth to yell or scream or anything but the forgotten smoke that was still trapped at the back of her throat forced its way out of her mouth all too quickly, making her choke fiercely into the crook of her elbow.

"Jesus, Nat." She coughed out, trying to catch her breath. "You scared the hell out of me."

"Were you… _smoking_?" The younger Lopez practically gasped, her voice rising at least an octave. Santana turned to see her sister standing just inside the bedroom, open mouthed and wide eyed.

Santana shook her head, searching for an explanation. "No, I…I'm just..."

Natasha's gazed was fixed on the light trail of smoke that was rising from the dropped cigarette.

"Santana, you said that people should never smoke because it kills them. Mom and Dad said that too. And the teachers at school!" The little girl sounded close to tears. As intelligent as she was for a ten year old, she was still ridiculously, childishly sensitive when it came to the wellbeing of people she loved.

"I don't smoke, Nat." She picked up the cigarette and stubbed it out in the nearest plant pot. "Not usually, anyway."

The little girl wasn't convinced.

"But I saw!" She said, an audible pout in her voice.

"I know you did. But I don't usually smoke, it just helps with the pain." She lied through gritted teeth, holding up her bandaged hand and eyeing the younger girl as subtly as she could, trying to figure out if she bought it or not.

The look on her face said not. Definitely not.

Santana internally fought with herself, trying to decide whether to expand on her bullshit explanation or whether a complete subject change would do the trick.

"Go find mom and ask if my uniform is clean." Santana said, walking back into the bedroom and pretending to be busy making her bed.

"She left already."

Santana sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed, momentarily holding her head in her good hand. "Of course she did." She mumbled, rubbing at her tired eyes.

She felt the bed shift a little and a small arm encircled her waist. "Don't be sad, San." Natasha said, resting her head gently on her older sister's shoulder. "Mom can't help it if she has to work early."

For a second, Santana couldn't answer. There were poisonous words on the tip of her tongue but there was no way she'd say them in front of her ten year old sister. Natasha didn't need to know what Santana thought of their mother. She didn't need to know that work came before the two of them and she certainly didn't need to know that it was Santana who was responsible for the packed lunches laid out neatly in a pink sparkly box that Natasha took to school every day or that Santana was the one who folded her small clothes and put them into the correct drawers. Not her mother.

For some reason, Santana had been able to uphold the illusion that their mother was taking care of them for Natasha's sake for the past five years but the truth was, Santana was bringing up a ten year old and running a household and handling school all on her own.

"Please, San." Natasha prompted when the older girl didn't move. "I'll help you find your uniform and I can make my own breakfast."

Santana felt Natasha's fingers toying gently with her hair and she couldn't help but smile. "Cutie." She whispered, pulling her little sister into a hug. "But if you make your own breakfast, it'll be ice cream. So nice try, but no." She tickled her gently until the young Latina was giggling and begging to be let go.

Santana laughed too, feeling momentarily lighter. "Come on chica, we're gonna be late."

* * *

><p>They were late. It had taken an excessive amount of time to find a pair of tights for Natasha and for a good half an hour, Santana's Cheerios uniform was nowhere to be seen. They'd found it eventually, in a crumpled heap in one of the spare bedrooms. Evidently it had been washed but instead of being returned to Santana's bedroom it had been discarded haphazardly, most likely after their mother had been called to a hospital emergency. So, while Natasha ate toast and sipped orange juice, Santana stood in her underwear, ironing the red and white garments, all while trying to eat a poptart without getting crumbs everywhere.<p>

A whole hour later, both girls were dressed and ready to go. Santana had reeled off a mental check list in her head as they'd dashed out to the car. Dogs fed, yep. Iron switched off, yeah. School books in school bags and packed lunches packed, yes.

The traffic had been slow and by the time Santana had dropped her younger sister off at a school over fifteen minutes away from her own, she was forced to saunter into Glee club forty minutes late pretending like she hadn't just had the morning from hell. She'd forced several smiles in the duration of the morning. She'd smiled when Quinn had rambled something about babies to her and she'd smiled when Mr Schuester complimented her solo. She'd even accidentally smiled at Rachel Berry at one point, only to quickly realise her mistake and correct herself promptly with an empty insult.

By Cheerios practise that afternoon, she was all out of fake happiness. The lack of sleep was catching up on her and she'd found herself stumbling her way through most of the routines, making the same mistakes over and over until finally, Coach Sue told them they could leave.

Of course, practise had run over by an hour and a half. And of course Santana had had to call her mom, asking her to pick Natasha up from school. That was something she very rarely did. To drag her mom away from her precious work was literally the worst thing she could possibly do, apparently. But sometimes she had no choice and sometimes she just didn't care. Today she didn't care. She was busy. And besides, seeing her mom at the school gates would make Natasha's day so Santana refused to let herself feel bad about it.

In fact, she'd refused to let herself feel anything all day.

She'd ignored the ever present Puck, she'd ignored comments about Dani and she'd ignored the constant throbbing in her hand. She'd ignored everything until she was sat in her car, driving to the last place on earth she wanted to be. Brittany's house.

When she pulled the car to a stop outside, she saw the curtains in the upstairs window move slightly, followed by the switching on of one light, and then another, and another until the lights marked out Brittany's journey from her bedroom to the front door.

Santana grabbed her bag in her good hand and left the safety of her car, sighing dejectedly as she did. She smoothed out her skirt quickly and glanced up to see the blonde girl stood in the half open doorway, illuminated by the light behind her. Her hair was loose and fell over her shoulders in soft waves. It looked pretty and Santana caught herself staring as she walked towards her. Brittany smiled.

"Hi." She said, opening the door a little wider. "Come on in."

"Hi. Thanks." Santana mumbled and began to squeeze past the taller girl, trying not to hit her with her bag. The doorway really wasn't wide enough for two people. For a brief moment, Santana's back was pressed up against Brittany's side and the Latina's breath caught in her throat. She wasn't great with physical contact.

"Sorry." Brittany said, a smile still audible in her voice. She moved back a little more, eventually allowing Santana to free herself from the small space. Thank god.

"S'okay." Santana said, trying her best to be polite.

"Wanna come upstairs?" Brittany asked brightly.

"Uh, sure."

The blonde girl smiled and turned to bound up the stairs, long legs taking two steps at a time. Santana watched for a second, mesmerized by the fluidity of the movement before realising that she should probably follow instead of gawking like an idiot. She shook herself mentally, telling herself to get a grip.

Brittany led them into a large room filled with blues and pinks and fairy lights and rainbows. Santana's idea of hell. But to her surprise, the sight of the room didn't instantly make her feel like she wanted to throw up all over it. It was warm and smelled of sugar and she actually kinda liked it.

"Cute room."

"Thanks. I decorated it myself." Brittany smiled again and Santana found herself wanting to stare. But she resisted the urge and instead settled herself on the edge of the neatly made bed. She accidentally pressed her sore hand against the covers and winced instinctively.

"Still sore?" Brittany asked, genuine concern in her voice.

Santana shook her head. "Only a little."

The blonde, leaning against the end of the bed, didn't seem convinced.

"Kept you up all night, didn't it?"

"What? No." Santana dropped her gaze and fiddled with the pleats in her skirt.

Brittany giggled. "Liar."

"Whatever." Santana said, much more softly than she intended and somehow, a small smile had formed on her lips. She cleared her throat and looked at the blonde again. "Ready to get your study on?"

The blonde nodded enthusiastically and practically leapt onto the bed next to Santana. The Latina rolled her eyes playfully and began pulling various textbooks out of her bag.

"Let's start with algebra."

* * *

><p>An hour later, Santana was resting against the pillows, legs folded underneath her as she watched Brittany work through a page of basic algebra questions. They'd been over the simple rules more times than she cared to count and the peaceful silence that had settled itself in the room was making her increasingly sleepy. She yawned quietly and smiled as Brittany chewed on her pen, a look of deep concentration etched into her pretty features.<p>

"You good?" Santana asked.

The blonde only nodded, keeping her eyes on the page.

"Okay." Santana whispered, unable to keep the smile out of her voice. She didn't know why, but being here with Brittany had her all kinda of relaxed. She hadn't thought of her mom or her homework or Natasha for at least an hour. Her mind was quiet and all she had to was occupy herself with watching the blonde girl learn new things.

She yawned again, louder this time.

Brittany looked up from her algebra. "Someone's sleepy."

Santana shrugged. "It's just been a long day."

"Do you wanna go home?"

"God, no." The Latina mumbled before she could stop herself. Brittany raised her eyebrows in mild surprise. "I mean, no. I'm good."

Brittany shrugged and put her pen down.

"So, you're a cheerleader?" The blonde asked, gesturing at Santana's red and white uniform.

"How did you guess?" Santana quipped, smiling a little to let Brittany know she was kidding. But apparently, the smile didn't make it clear enough.

"I didn't." Brittany started. "I noticed your calf muscles the other day and thought you might be a dancer. But I couldn't figure out where you danced because I hadn't seen you at competitions before, so I was gonna ask you today but now it all makes sense."

Santana raised her eyebrows playfully. "You noticed my calf muscles?" She made sure to punctuate the question with a small laugh, hoping that Brittany wouldn't notice the blush in her cheeks. And she sure as hell hoped she wouldn't notice how the thought of Brittany noticing something about her made her fidget nervously with the edge of her skirt.

"Yeah." Brittany shrugged, blissfully unaware.

"Cool." Santana said as calmly as possible. "Now quit drooling over my legs and get back to your algebra, blondie."

Brittany giggled, a sound that Santana was quickly beginning to crave, before returning to her work.

Santana rested her head back against the pillows and let a smile pull at the corners of her mouth. _Here we go again_, she thought.

* * *

><p>Brittany got stuck on a particularly difficult algebraic expansion question. She chewed on her pen, trying to remember what to do with the brackets and what not to do with them and whether she needed brackets at all. She messed around with it for a minute or two, arranging and rearranging before coming to the conclusion that she was gonna need some help on this one.<p>

She glanced up to get Santana's attention but the Latina's eyes were closed and her breathing had slowed into a gentle, relaxed rhythm. She looked peaceful but her high pony meant that her neck was positioned awkwardly against the pillow.

Brittany smiled a little and got up as carefully as she could, trying not to move the bed. She leant over Santana and gently slipped the tie from her hair, letting it fall loosely against the baby pink pillow. She looked like a mermaid, Brittany thought. A really, really pretty mermaid.

She pulled a blanket from the trunk at the end of the bed and laid it over the sleeping brunettes' legs, not wanting her to get cold. Just as she was making sure it was neat, she heard a key turn in the door. Her breath caught in her throat and she sprung back form the bed, not knowing whether to pretend she wasn't in or to go downstairs and distract her mom sooner rather than later.

She listened to the front door open and suddenly her name was being called. She flinched, hoping that the noise wouldn't wake Santana and crept out of the room as quietly as she could, closing the door softly behind her.

"Coming!" She replied as her mom called out her name again. The older blonde was unloading grocery bag in the kitchen. "Hi." Brittany said, leaning against the door frame.

"Hi, sweetie. Have you eaten yet?"

"Yeah." The younger blonde lied.

"I was hoping you'd say that." The woman smiled, "I need you to go grab your bed sheets. Think it's about time we washed some of that Lord Tubbington fur off of them, don't you?"

Brittany started at her mother for a second, mouth slightly agape. Out of all the things she could've been asked to do, why did it have to be that? Why couldn't she wash the dishes or vacuum the living room instead?

"I can't." Brittany said, not being able to think of a convincing lie quickly enough.

"Of course you can! Go on up now, it won't take a minute."

Brittany bit her lip and stared down at her feet, not daring to lie again but also not daring to tell the truth.

"Brittany." Her mother started, "I know that face. What have you done? Have you spilled the bubblegum soda all over the sheets again? Honestly, Brittany, what have I told you about taking that blue stuff up to your room? It's an absolute nightmare to get those stains out."

"It's not that." Brittany mumbled.

"What is it then? Has Lord Tubbington peed on it? That cat, I swear to god-"

"No, mom." Brittany cut her off. "It's nothing like that."

"Well I suggest you enlighten me then." The older blonde said, eyebrows raised.

Brittany sighed.

"There's a sleeping girl in my room."

"A what? For a second there I thought you said there was a sleeping girl in your room." The woman laughed, pushing a carton of milk into the only spare space in the refrigerator.

Brittany didn't answer, she was too intent on staring at her own feet.

"Brittany?" Her mother pushed, quirking an eyebrow.

The younger blonde sighed again, defeated. "There's a sleeping girl in my bedroom. She came over after school to hangout and she fell asleep. That's all."

"Do we know this girl? Or did you just pick her out of a crowd and ask her to come home with you?"

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean, yes we know her. She's Natasha's sister and I met her last night when I went to their house for dinner. She's nice and we just wanted to hang out."

The older blonde shook her head. "You met her for the first time last night and you've already invited her into our home?"

Brittany could only shrug.

"And she's apparently so comfortable here already that she's now asleep in your bedroom?"

"She was tired." Brittany defended the brunette. This wasn't her fault.

Just then, there was a voice in the doorway behind her.

"Why do I get the feeling I'm being talked about?"

The blonde turned to see Santana entering the kitchen, her now loose hair hanging in waves almost down to her waist. She wore a polite smile on her face and extended her hand towards Brittany's mom.

"Santana Lopez, nice to meet you." The Latina's voice was so effortlessly smooth that it literally made the hairs on the back of Brittany's neck stand up. "My little sister dances with your daughter," Santana says, sending a quick 'I got this' glance to the Brittany. "We invited her over for dinner last night and she thought it was only fair to repay the favour tonight."

The older blonde could only nod, seemingly transfixed by the girl who stood before her. Santana had managed to completely change the atmosphere of the room within a matter of seconds. Woah.

"You have a lovely home." Santana finished, flipping her hair gently out of her face.

"Thank you," The woman said, a little flustered by just how polite Santana was. "You're very welcome here any time."

Santana nodded her thanks and then turned to Brittany. "I really should get going. Thanks for inviting me, Britt."

The use of her pet name made Brittany's breath catch in her throat. "You're welcome," She managed to say. "I'll see you out."

She led Santana out to the front door and watched as the Latina picked up her bag.

"Thank you." Brittany whispered, not wanting her mom to overhear.

"For the algebra?"

Brittany nodded. "And for saving my ass in there."

Santana shrugged it off, a small smile playing with the corners of her mouth. "Any time, blondie. I'll call you, okay?"

"Okay." Brittany smiled, knowing that Santana must have gotten her number from Natasha. Cute.

"Okay." Santana repeated, not quite ready to leave but she forced herself to turn around and walk back to her car.

As she pulled away, she let herself glance in the mirror. This time, the blonde girl hadn't disappeared into the house. She was still standing there, illuminated by the light from within the house. The reflections of their eyes met briefly and that was all it took. She was falling already, way too quickly and she didn't know how to stop.

Or maybe she just didn't want to.

_**Thanks for reading, guys :) Feedback helps so much so please review if you can. **_

_**xoxo**_


	4. Lesson 4: Accept help

_**Happy New Year, guys! Sorry for the delay (again), Christmas got in the way but this is an extra long chapter to make up for it. Enjoy and please review if you have time :)**_

Santana didn't call as soon as Brittany would have liked her to. In fact, three days had passed and the blonde was beginning to think that maybe Santana didn't want to be her tutor after all. The thought made her sadder than it possibly should have done but she couldn't help it. Not only did she enjoy learning, she also enjoyed Santana's company. It was nice to have someone to spend an evening with, someone to eat dinner. She spent so much time alone with her mother that sometimes she almost forgot what it was like to talk to other people. One evening with Santana had refreshed her and made everything seem a little less suffocating.

She'd spent the last few days moping around the house partly because of Santana, partly because her mom was making her do some stupid history of world culture project that she couldn't have been less interested in. She moved from room to room, pretending to read books and magazine articles for research, and really doing anything but. She'd rearranged her bedroom three times. Cleared out her closet and then cleared it out again. She'd changed her bed sheets and had even managed to brush Lord Tubbington; something that she'd been avoiding for at least six months.

After three days she'd just about run out of ways to procrastinate so when her phone started ringing, she'd just opened a book that might actually have been relevant to the project she was supposed to be doing.

"Hello?"

"Brittany, hi."

The voice on the other end of the phone made her heart skip an excited beat.

"Hi." She said, the smile audible in her voice.

"Can you meet me in the library at Mckinley High? I have two hours free, thought you might wanna do some studying."

"Right now?" Brittany asked, already standing up and returning the book to its shelf.

"Yep. See you in ten minutes?"

"Ten minutes." The blonde agreed.

Santana said a hasty goodbye and Brittany quickly found a pair of shoes. Tugging them on, she yelled down the stairs, telling her mom that she was going out and she was taking the car.

"Where are you going?" Her mother asked as Brittany bounded down the stairs, only halfway through brushing her hair.

"Dance studio." She lied.

"Where are your dance clothes?"

Brittany looked down at her skinny jeans and printed shirt. Her favourite shirt, actually. The one with the egg and bacon smiley face. Cute, but definitely not dance wear.

"Uh," She hesitated, pretending she was too preoccupied with checking her hair in the wall mirror. "I'm not dancing, just helping."

"Right." Her mother sounded unconvinced but for one reason or another, she didn't ask any more questions. "Have fun." She said, handing the car keys to her daughter.

"Kay." Brittany smiled, kissing the older blonde quickly on the cheek before rushing out of the front door and down the driveway.

Mckinley High School was big and noisy and absolutely impossible to navigate. Brittany had arrived ten minutes ago and already she'd managed to pass the canteen three times, meaning that she was walking a circle that she couldn't quite seem to get out of. Students rushed from classroom to classroom, knocking into her and disorientating her further. She tried her best to understand the signs nailed to the walls of the hallway, each one pointing to a different location but they seemed to tell her how to get to anything and everything other than the one place she was looking for.

She decided to slow down, ignoring the chaos around her and trying to concentrate more on her route through the school. She found a quieter place next to some lockers and took a moment to just look around. She knew which way she had come in and she knew how to get out but that was all. She sighed quietly and began methodically checking each sign again. Canteen. Science Lab. Bathrooms. But no library.

"Can I help you?"

Brittany turned to see a man with funny, curly hair stood before her. He was wearing a green vest and looked very much like he should be in some kind of musical. But his eyes were kind and he was offering a small, helpful smile.

"Uh, yeah. I'm looking for the library."

"Ah, the library. Rarely used by the kids here. I get the feeling most of them would rather spend their free time in the canteen." The man laughed, seemingly at an inside joke that Brittany didn't quite understand but she still smiled.

"Follow me." He said, before turning and walking down the hall.

Brittany followed quickly, not wanting to lose her new tour guide in the crowds. But she supposed losing him would have been difficult because she was pretty sure she would be able to see that vest from at least a mile away.

They turned down another, much quieter hallway.

"So," The curly haired man said, "Judging by how lost you looked back there, I'm guessing you're new here?"

Brittany shook her head. "I'm home schooled. I'm just meeting my tutor here."

"Your tutor?"

"Yeah. Her name is Santana."

The man stopped dead almost as soon as the word left Brittany's mouth, so abruptly that had she been walking any closer, she would've ploughed straight into him. Fortunately, she managed to avoid him.

"What did you say?" The look of pure confusion on his face was almost funny.

"Santana Lopez. She's my tutor."

The man shook his head in disbelief. "Santana Lopez. A tutor." He said under his breath to no one in particular.

"Do you know her?" Brittany asked, equally as confused.

He ran his hand through his hair, still looking utterly stunned. "Everyone knows Santana Lopez." A small, knowing smile crossed his features briefly. Brittany wasn't sure why but it created an uneasy feeling in her stomach. It disappeared though as soon as the fuzzy haired man made a quick joke and continued to walk down the hallway.

She followed closely, wanting to ask what he meant about everyone knowing Santana but not quite being brave enough. Instead, she played with the fraying edge of the small leather bracelet she was wearing and concentrated on taking note of where they were walking in case she ever needed to find it again.

"Here we are." The man stopped outside the library doors and smiled.

"Thanks." Brittany said, looking in through the glass, trying to spot Santana.

"You're very welcome-" He stopped suddenly, realizing that he did not know her name.

"Brittany." She filled the gap quickly and punctuated it with a grateful smile.

"You're very welcome, Brittany. It was nice meeting you."

"You too."

The man smiled at her again before moving away to lecture some boys about the empty cans they had just dropped onto the floor.

Brittany looked at the doors again and moved closer. They opened automatically and she stepped inside, the stuffy smell of old books hitting her immediately. The scent clung to the warm air and she inhaled deeply. It felt safe in here. Safe and really, really quiet. She glanced around, noting that the few students sat at the front of the large room were alone. No one sat in pairs and no one was speaking. She even felt the need to breathe quietly, not wanting to be the one to break the silence.

She began to walk deeper into the room and whilst looking for Santana, she also managed to glance at some of the bookshelves. Most of the covers were brightly coloured and she ran her index finger along the spines of them as she walked. She came to the end of one of the shelves and realised that the room opened up again into another space filled with desks and soft looking chairs. Santana was sitting at the desk furthest away and from her concealed position, Brittany found herself watching her for a moment. She watched her fidget with a pen, moving between spinning it in her fingers and chewing on the end of it. Her long hair was loose and every few seconds she'd run her hand through it, becoming increasingly more agitated each time it fell back in front of her face.

Brittany felt a smile toying with the corners of her mouth but she managed to supress it as she emerged from her accidental hiding place. Her footsteps were quiet so Santana couldn't hear her approaching.

"Hi." Brittany whispered as she came to a stop in front of the desk.

Santana smiled first before looking up from her book. "Well hey there, blondie." She lifted her eyes to meet Brittany's and flicked her hair over her shoulder. "Ready to get your study on?"

Brittany nodded enthusiastically and took the seat next to Santana.

"I got lost." She whispered. "And I met a man with curly hair."

"Ah." Santana smirked. "That'll be Mr Schue."

"Mr who?"

"Mr Schue. He likes to sing and be happy all of the damn time. It's exhausting, honestly. Sometimes I can't even look at him without wanting to immediately take a week long nap."

"Oh," Brittany said, not really convinced that Santana disliked him that much. "I thought he seemed kinda nice."

"Oh he's nice. So nice that it makes me wanna barf."

Brittany giggled.

"What?" Santana said, trying to conceal a smile.

"You're funny."

The brunette laughed and flipped her hair over her shoulder dramatically. "I try."

Brittany rolled her eyes playfully, feeling like she'd just boosted Santana's already particularly large ego.

Still smiling, the Latina handed Brittany a pen and opened the nearest book. "Enough with the giggling, blondie, we gots some serious work to do."

They began with reading through the basics of the history Santana wanted to teach her and Brittany had gotten a little too excited when she realised that it was all coincidentally to do with the project she had to do at home. So excited, in fact, that one of the librarians shushed them loudly, causing both girls to cover the mouths and hold their noses to squash the giggles that threatened to spill out noisily.

"God, you're so distracting." Santana said, still smiling from their momentary hysteria.

"Guess you'll just have to spend more time with me to get all of this stuff done then." Brittany shrugged, grinning at the falsely grumpy brunette.

"Yeah, yeah." Santana rolled her eyes, although she wasn't really opposed to that idea.

They settled again into a steady rhythm of readings and explanations. Santana would expand each fact with a memorable little anecdote or would twist it into something more modern and recognisable. Brittany liked that she did that, it made everything so much easier to understand.

This continued quietly for the best part of an hour until Santana produced a list of quiz questions for Brittany to answer, each question linking to the facts they'd just spoken about.

"You get half an hour, okay?" Santana said, closing the books so Brittany couldn't see the answers.

The blonde nodded.

"Cool. I'm gonna finish my homework while you do that and then when we're done, we'll check it together."

"Okay." Brittany smiled sweetly, grateful for how helpful the brunette was being.

Brittany started by reading through the questions and picking out the ones she was most sure about first. Santana was already writing in a notebook with her still bandaged hand. Brittany began to write too but as she neared the edge of her page, their wrists collided awkwardly.

"Sorry." The said simultaneously, but unlike Brittany, Santana didn't look up from her notebook.

The blonde shrugged and began writing again, only to realise that the collision was happening every time Santana started on a new line and Brittany finished one. The fourth time, Santana giggled.

"Switch seats with me," She said, standing up. "I'm left handed, happens all the time." She smiled and stepped backwards out of the way so Brittany could scoot over to the other seat.

"Ohhh." Brittany said, finally understanding what the problem was but Santana was too preoccupied with trying and failing to pull her hair into a ponytail. By the way she chewed her lip in pained concentration, Brittany could see that the bandage was the problem. Bit of hair would get tangled around it and the hair tie wouldn't quite stretch over it.

"Lemme help." Brittany said, standing up.

"It's okay, I got it."

The blonde watched with raised eyebrows because it was obvious that Santana most certainly did not have it. At all.

After a few painful seconds of watching Santana, Brittany spoke again.

"Sit down. I'll do it."

"I don't need help."

"Well I'm bored of watching you struggle so just sit and let me do it."

Santana looked a little surprised before sighing in defeat and sitting down. "Who knew blondie could be so bossy." She mumbled under her breath, folding her arms across her chest like a toddler who'd just been told she couldn't have any more candy.

Brittany smiled a little before pulling the Latina's thick hair into a loose braid and securing it with one of her own hair ties.

"Tadaa." The blonde cooed with a hint of sarcasm, still amused by just how stubborn Santana could be.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

They glanced at each other briefly and for a second, Brittany could've sworn she saw a slight pink blush on Santana's cheeks. A crack in her façade, maybe.

"Come to Glee club with me." Santana said as they reached the exit of the library. She wasn't sure why she asked. She wasn't even sure if Mr Schue would allow it but the thought of Brittany leaving was creating an emptiness in the pit of her stomach that she did not want to be stuck with all day.

"What club?"

"Glee club. The man you met earlier, he teaches it. It's fun."

"What kind of club is it?"

Santana shrugged. "We sing and stuff."

Brittany frowned. "I thought you didn't like singing or being happy."

Santana narrowed her eyes in feigned anger, surprised but amused to have been caught out by the sweet blonde. "I did say that didn't I." She tried her best to sound defeated.

"Yep." Brittany grinned.

"Well," Santana shrugged again. "It's okay I guess. The singing part. Not the constant happy part."

"Right." Brittany laughed and tucked her hand into the crook of Santana's arm, not wanting to get lost in the crowds again. "Let's go to glee club."

The girls walked arm in arm down three hallways. Brittany was quite happy to do so but the physical contact was making Santana uncomfortable. Brittany's hand was warm and soft and she kinda wanted to hold it but at the same time, she wanted to put a whole lot of distance between them. Whatever she felt about Brittany, she knew she could never act on. The old Santana would have flirted outrageously with the taller blonde. She would've complimented her eyes, her hair, the way she smelled. She would've been so charming that Brittany wouldn't have been able to resist. But new Santana was much more cautious. Santana who had been hurt saw danger in every new feeling. She'd been too free with Dani, too careless. She'd let down her guard only to be so completely torn apart that she never wanted to let them down again.

With that in mind, she moved her arm so that they were no longer touching. Brittany looked at her, an inkling of panic in her blue eyes. Santana knew what it was like to be in a crowd full of people you didn't know, trying to follow one person along a hallway that you'd never seen before. She knew that was why Brittany was so keen to hold onto her but the arm holding thing was just too much. Instead, she dropped her arm and let her hand find the blonde girls. Full on hand holding was a big deal for Santana so instead she linked her pinky finger with Brittany's, giving it a little squeeze to reassure the taller girl that she wouldn't let her get lost.

They turned a corner and came to a stop outside a brightly lit classroom.

"Welcome to the choir-"

A loud whistle cut them off and Santana spun around to see Puck leaning against the opposite wall, arms folded and eyebrows raised in mocking amusement.

"Hand holding already, Lopez? I thought you were done with love for a while."

Santana instinctively let go of Brittany's pinky and instead held onto the straps of her backpack.

"Shut up, Puck. We weren't holding hands."

Puck laughed quietly and sauntered over to them, hands in pockets now.

"Looked like hand holding to me, kiddo. So, is this Dani 2.0?" He looked the blonde girl up and down, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "She's hot."

Brittany's eyes widened and she took a small step backwards. Santana felt the hairs on the back of her neck bristle and she balled her hands into fists.

"Don't you dare talk about her like that. She's a friend and you have no right to treat her like a piece of meat. Keep your eyes and your disgusting thoughts to yourself."

The little Latina only came up to the males chest but that didn't stop her from squaring her shoulders and giving him a quick shove. He barely moved but the message was clear. He held up his hands in silent apology and Santana turned away abruptly, taking Brittany by the elbow and pulling her into the classroom.

"Who was that?" The blonde whispered.

"No one." Santana growled, storming to the back of the empty room and sitting down on one of the plastic chairs. Brittany took the seat next to her and fidgeted nervously with her bracelet. She didn't like that guy and she didn't like the way he made Santana act.

"He seems like a jerk. You should stay away from him." Brittany offered, trying to keep the anxiety out of her voice.

"Can we talk about something else," Santana said through gritted teeth. "Please?"

"Okay, uh…" Brittany racked her brain for anything conversation starter. "Did you know that jelly fish don't have brains?"

Santana looked up from her lap, her features instantly more relaxed. "What?"

"Yeah, they're like seventy percent water and thirty percent…jelly."

Santana let out a small sigh and smiled at the blonde girl who was looking at her expectantly. Puck made her want to break every window in the school with her bare hands and on a normal day, she probably would've done. But Brittany, somehow, seemed to cancel out the anger and the humiliation and the pain. Somehow, Brittany calmed her and made her think of wild flower meadows and vanilla and the sun. She should have hated it. She should have despised her for it. But she couldn't get enough.

But almost as soon as she felt herself relax, she heard _that_ voice calling her name across the room and she was back to filled with rage. "Oh god, no." She mumbled to herself as the voice moved closer.

"Good afternoon, Santana! I see you've brought a friend with you. Hello Santana's friend, my name is Rachel Barbra Berry and I am very much involved with this Glee club. As you've probably heard, I tend to be the lead soloist on the majority of our performances and I-"

"Rachel, for the love of god, save your life story for someone who cares."

"Hey," Brittany said quietly to Santana and placed her hand on her knee to stop her. "I care." She smiled at Rachel. "I'm Brittany and Santana is my tutor. She asked me to come to Glee club with her, I hope that's okay?"

Santana scowled at the blonde but Rachel was delighted. "Of course it's okay! The more, the merrier." She trilled in that high pitched voice Santana hated so much. "See, Santana? It doesn't hurt to be nice once in a while." The little brunette said, with raised eyebrows.

"Rachel," The Latina let the name escape on the end of an exasperated sigh. "Just go. Before I stick your mouth together with super glue."

The tiny singer gave a small huff before returning to her seat at the piano.

"Santana, that wasn't nice." Brittany moved her hand from the Latina's knee.

"She's the one who's not nice. She's like the devil, reincarnated into a tiny, tiny hobbit body. Like a little-" She was cut off by the appearance of yet another Glee club member.

"Hey, Santana. Hey, blonde girl I do not know but would very much like to." The blonde haired boy smiled warmly at Brittany.

"Brittany." She said quietly, conscious of Santana rolling her eyes next to her.

"Sam Evans." The boy smiled.

"Back off, Trouty. She's not interested in your fish lips. Quinn, thank god!" Santana was distracted from her insults as another blonde girl entered the room. Dressed in a babydoll dress and matching cardigan, Brittany thought she almost looked like a Disney princess. She smiled at Santana and stopped in front of the two girls.

"Quinn. Save me from these people, please." Santana feigned distress and Brittany giggled, amused by her theatricality.

"Oh, come on Santana. They're not that bad. And besides, we all know this is the best part of your day. You're not fooling anyone."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Sit your ass down and keep your thoughts to yourself, Q."

The other blonde smiled, obviously used to Santana's harsh words and took the seat on the other side of the brunette.

"Are you going to introduce me to your friend?"

"Oh, right. Quinn, Brittany. Brittany, this is Quinn."

"Hi." Brittany waved.

"Ahh, you're the girl she's been talking about."

"What?" Brittany asked, glancing at Santana who was glaring at Quinn.

"Nothing." Santana mumbled.

Just as Brittany was about to ask another question, the curly haired man walked in and addressed the now almost full room. His voice was happy and light but Brittany couldn't concentrate on what he was saying, she was too busy thinking about Santana who was sat fidgeting next to her.

Santana had told someone else about her. She didn't know why but that idea made her pulse quicken a little and had her twisting her hands in her lap. She wanted to ask Santana. She wanted to sit in her room with her and ask her about everything. Not just about what happened today. She wanted to know her favourite colour, her least favourite food. What music she liked. Which movie she always watches when she's sad.

She thought about what the curly haired man had meant. And what Quinn meant. And what Puck meant. And why Santana was so mean to everyone. Because the small parts of Santana that she'd seen were nothing like what she'd seen in this room or just outside of it.

She sighed, confused.

"You ok?" Santana whispered.

Brittany nodded, unaware that the Latina had been watching her chew on her lip in concentration.

"Santana, I'm sure you have something prepared for us." Mr Schue announced suddenly while Santana was still looking at Brittany. The whole room turned to look at them and Santana cleared her throat.

"As much as I know you all love to listen to me sing, you'll have to wait until next week." She said quickly. "In fact, I have to get Brittany home." She stood up and pulled Brittany to her feet at the same time.

Brittany didn't say anything despite the change in plan. Instead she followed Santana out of the room, down the hallway and finally, out of the main doors. Santana continued to walk across the parking lot quickly and Brittany fell behind her slightly, not being able to move fast enough to keep up without actually breaking into a jog.

"Santana!" She called after the small brunette. "Wait!"

"Go home, Brittany." Santana shouted back but she didn't sound angry. She just sounded tired.

Brittany was even further behind now, having had to stop for a reversing car.

"Just wait a second, please!"

Santana ignored her and stalked quickly towards the exit of the lot. Brittany frowned. Was she going to walk all the way home?

She sighed and pushed herself into a jog, not wanting to lose sight of the Latina. Santana had slowed down a little, the warm air too oppressive to move that quickly for so long and Brittany managed to catch up. She grabbed Santana's arm gently and she immediately stopped. Stopped dead like she'd been waiting all along for a reason to stand still. She didn't yell or struggle. She just waited for Brittany to move in front of her. She waited for her to lift her chin gently.

"Hey, it's okay." She said quietly, noticing the moisture forming in Santana's dark eyes. She tried to blink it away but a lone tear escaped and pooled on her cheek. Brittany, without thinking, brushed it away with her thumb. "What's wrong?"

Santana shook her head. "I'm just tired."

"Tired of what?"

The brunette shrugged. "Everything."

Brittany just nodded. She knew the feeling.

"Where's your car?" She asked quietly, taking Santana's good hand in her own. She gave it a little squeeze.

"At home. Quinn gave me a ride this morning."

"Well then," Brittany smiled sweetly. "It's a good thing I brought my car. Let me take you home?"

Santana nodded and managed to smile a little. Brittany led her slowly towards her own car and opened the passenger door for her.

"Thanks." Santana said a little sheepishly, not used to people being polite around her.

She put on her seatbelt as Brittany got in the other side. She pulled down the little mirror and ran her thumb under her eyes, conscious that her mascara wasn't waterproof.

"You look fine." Brittany said quietly when she noticed.

"I look like reheated shit." The Latina mumbled, making Brittany smile. She was wrong but she decided not to argue. She didn't want any more tears.

Santana was quiet as they drove, letting her head rest against the cool window. Puck's words echoed quietly at the back of her mind. Images of Dani faded in and out. All of it made her tired. And knowing that she'd get home to mound of ironing and washing to be done wasn't helping her mood. She just wanted to sleep.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she pulled it out.

"Mom?" She answered cautiously. Her mom rarely called her. Unless she needed something, of course.

"What do you mean, she's sick?" Santana asked and Brittany glanced at her, noting the concern in her voice.

"Right now? Okay. Bye." She sighed and put the phone down in her lap.

"Everything okay?" Brittany asked, keeping her eyes on the road.

"Natasha is sick and they're sending her home from school. My mom is at work so I need to go pick her up." She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead gently with her fingers as she said it, looking very much like she might fall asleep any second.

"I'll take you." Brittany said without hesitation.

"What? No. Just drop me off at home and I'll take my car."

"Santana," Brittany said calmly. "I'm taking you."

"But i-"

"Shush."

Brittany drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, waiting patiently for the girls. They'd arrived at the school ten minutes ago and Santana had gone in to find her sister. Brittany had offered to go with her but the Latina seemed too distracted to give her a straight answer so she'd decided to wait. She thought about Santana's mom. Surely if her kid was sick, collecting them was more important that work. Although Brittany didn't always get along with her own mom and sometimes she forgot to appreciate her, she always knew that she'd be there whenever she needed her. She couldn't imagine not having a mom to take care of you when you were sick. Or worse, having a mom who didn't want to take care of you when you were sick.

She looked up to see Santana and Natasha walking towards the car, hand in hand. Santana was carrying Natasha's bag and she watched her younger friend smile when she realised who would be giving them a ride home.

"Hey, Nat." Brittany said brightly as she got into the car. "Feeling better?"

"I guess." Natasha said, although she looked a little pale.

"Great." Brittany smiled but glanced at Santana. "Everything okay?" She asked quietly, starting the engine and turning on the radio.

Santana nodded. "Nurse said she threw up an hour ago. Apparently there's a bug going around."

"Ahh." Brittany nodded. She'd never been in school to catch anything like that. The kind of bug that had kids dropping like flies in every class. She'd always felt kinda left out, actually.

Santana turned around. "Nat, if you puke in Brittany's car you'll be helping me do the ironing for a month, okay?" She sounded serious but Natasha giggled, knowing that she was teasing.

Brittany also knew that she was more worried than she let on.

Fifteen minutes later all three girls were stood in the hallway of the Lopez house, taking off their shoes and hanging up their jackets.

"Go lay down, Nat. I'll be up in a minute." Santana said.

"In your room?"

"Wherever you want, kid."

Natasha smiled and walked upstairs slowly.

"What time do you have to be home?" Santana asked as Brittany followed her to the kitchen.

"Not yet." Brittany smiled, sensing that Santana didn't want her to leave.

The Latina nodded and pulled a small bottle of water out of the refrigerator. She then pulled a large box out of the cupboard and set it on the table. It was filled with boxes and bottles of pills and brightly coloured liquids. Brittany stared. She'd never seen so much medicine in her life.

Noticing, Santana smiled a little. "My parents are doctors, remember?"

"Right." Brittany laughed quietly.

Santana moved a few things around in the box, piling them on top of one another until she found what she was looking for.

"How do you know which one to use?" Brittany asked, mesmerized by how quickly Santana had navigated her way through the medicine mountain.

"My mom taught me when I was younger." She sighed, "When she still had time to actually speak to me."

"Oh."

"Come on." Santana said, grabbing the water and the box of pills.

Brittany followed her out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Brittany counted the doors, Santana's room was the third one on the left. The door was open slightly and Brittany could just make out Natasha lying in the middle of the large double bed.

The covers were a dark purple and the pillows that covered it were all of a similar shade. Some lighter, almost lilac, some in between and some just as dark as the actual covers. The walls of the room were painted white and were covered with black and white pictures of singers and blown up versions of album covers. Some Brittany recognised, some she didn't.

She followed Santana inside and took in the rest of the room. It was huge. So huge that the deep purple rug that only partially covered the floor was almost as big as Brittany's whole bedroom. A large vanity dresser stood prettily on the opposite wall to the bed, its surface covered with makeup products and perfume bottles and bobby pins. Above it was a large photo frame filled with small, colourful photographs. Brittany could see Natasha in some of them, Quinn in others. She even recognised the classroom they'd been in today in a couple of them. There were photo booth pictures of Santana and some other girls, all pouting and dressed in the same red and white uniform Santana wore pretty much every time she was her.

Brittany smiled. Those photos made her feel a little closer to the Latina. Like she knew her a little better.

Santana was sitting on the edge of the bed, handing Natasha a pill and holding the glass of water for her until she was ready to wash it down. She watched Santana feel the little girl's forehead and at the same time, Brittany noticed that it was uncomfortably warm in the room.

She moved over to the large French doors that she could see led onto an open balcony. She pushed them open gently and a refreshing breeze filled the room quickly. Santana flashed her a grateful smile before turning her attention back to Natasha, who was looking increasingly sleepy.

Not wanting to disturb the sisters, Brittany stepped out onto the balcony, letting the slightly cooler air wash over her. She ran her fingers over the white metal table and then let herself lean over the railings slightly. The pool below was bigger than any she'd ever seen and a large, inflatable, pink loch ness monster type creature floated lazily on its surface. She smiled and lifted her eyes to look beyond the pool into the grounds. There were blossom trees and large flowerbeds, nestled into different parts of the yard, all split by large hedges and small trees. It looked like the kind of place Brittany would've happily got lost in for hours as a child. Just beyond the edge of the yard, almost as far as she could see, was a vast field in which three horses stood, two of them chewing at the grass and another with its head resting on the tall, wooden gate.

She wondered if the horses belonged to the Lopez family. And if so, which one belonged to Santana? She watched the horses for a while before turning her attention to the sky, as she so often did when she was sitting in her own room, bored of whatever project she was supposed to be doing. She liked to turn the clouds into stories. But there weren't many clouds today. Only a few, light white trails tainted the blue, none of them interesting shapes. Or at least not interesting enough to turn into fun stories. She decided to count them but even that didn't keep her mind occupied for long. Her thoughts quickly turned to the brunette. The brunette who could stand up to a guy twice her size without hesitation but had cried in the parking lot because she was tired.

The girl who could cut people down with her vicious words but turned into a pile of concerned mush when it came to her younger sister. Brittany thought that a lot of people would be confused by Santana. She was so different in different situations. But Brittany wasn't confused by it. In fact, she could see it quite clearly. Santana was two people. The Santana she showed to the world and the Santana she reserved for important people only.

She felt a hand touch the small of her back briefly and turned to her left to see Santana standing next to her, resting her arms on the cool railings.

"She's asleep." She said quietly, pulling a cigarette out of a small box and lighting it with ease. Brittany watched as she placed the burning rod between her full lips and inhaled deeply. She coughed delicately and shook her head.

"I don't even like these things." She dropped the cigarette to the floor and stood on it, concealing the light wisp of smoke.

"Why do you do it then?"

Santana shrugged.

The girls were quiet for a moment, each of them lost in their own thoughts.

"Are those your horses?" Brittany asked quietly, watching the three animals move lazily around the paddock.

Santana nodded. "The grey one is mine. Shadow. We don't get much time to ride though."

"Oh." Brittany said, a little disappointed that such beautiful horses never got to be ridden.

"I got her for my tenth birthday," Santana continued, "I asked for a Barbie doll but I got Shadow instead. I guess mom and dad thought a Barbie doll wasn't enough to make up for all the other birthdays they missed."

Brittany frowned. "They missed your birthdays?"

The Latina shrugged. "Once or twice."

She glanced at Brittany whose eyes had dropped to the floor, saddened by the thought of Santana spending her childhood birthdays without her parents.

Santana laughed quietly. "Don't look so sad, blondie. I have awesome grandparents, they made my birthdays extra special."

"Promise?"

Santana smiled. "Yes, I promise."

"When is your birthday?" Brittany asked, curious now.

"August 3rd."

Brittany counted the dates in her head. That was only three weeks away.

"Pretty soon."

"Yep."

They fell quiet again. Santana was tired and she wasn't very good at making small talk at the best of times. She wanted to talk to Brittany, she really did but her brain couldn't find the right words. Too many thoughts were already circling and for some reason, she couldn't make them stop.

She distracted herself by un-braiding her hair and running her good hand through the loose waves. Brittany watched, questions forming in her head. She wanted to ask about why Santana had cried. Why she was tired of everything. But she stopped herself, not wanting to upset the Latina further. Instead, she asked a question that had been bothering her the most over the last few days.

"Santana?"

"Hmm?"

"We're friends, right?" She asked quickly, nerves threatening. "I mean, I know you're my tutor and all but spending time with you is fun and you're nice to me and I-"

Santana smiled as Brittany tried her best to explain. "Yes," She almost whispered. "We're friends."

An hour later, a movie was playing quietly on the television in Santana's bedroom and both Santana and Natasha had been sound asleep for the last forty five minutes. Brittany was sitting on the bed next to them, not knowing whether to leave or not when her phone buzzed on the nightstand.

She picked it up and read the message from her mom.

_Dinner in half an hour xoxo_

She sighed and got up as quietly and as carefully as she could, not wanting to wake the sisters. She found a pen and a piece of paper and wrote them a quick note.

_Had to go home for dinner, thank you for letting me watch a movie with you. Feel better Nat. xoxo B._

She left it on the spare pillow next to Santana and crept down the stairs and out of the front door. She closed it gently behind her and got into her car. As she was reversing, she glanced up at the house, wishing she could have stayed longer. It was so big and seemed so empty with just Santana and Natasha in it, rattling around in all those, big echo-y rooms.

As she drove home, she felt echo-y too. Like something was missing. Or maybe she was missing something. Someone.

She waited up until past midnight, anticipating a text from Santana but nothing came through. Eventually she gave up and slipped into a sleep filled with images of wild horses, long dark hair and pink loch ness monsters.

_**Thanks for reading guys! Reviews are really helpful so if you have time, please let me know what you thought. **_

_**xoxo**_


	5. Lesson 5: Slow and steady

_**Thank you so much for the reviews, guys! I love reading what you think of each chapter and if you have any suggestions or ideas of what you'd like to see happen in the next few chapters, please let me know! Any specific dates you'd like to see the girls go on? Any conversations you think need to be had? Please feel free to leave your ideas in a review or PM me if you'd prefer. **_

_**Hope you enjoy this chapter 3**_

"How about this one?" Quinn asked, pulling yet another dress from Santana's cluttered closet. This one was striped, green and back and almost as short as the last suggestion. Santana wrinkled her nose.

"I wore that in New York, it probably still smells like that guy who groped me on the subway."

Quinn frowned and lifted the dress, smelling it briefly. "Hmm." She realised Santana was right and hastily pushed it back into the row of clothes.

"This one?"

Santana liked this one. It was simple, short and black but she'd worn it on too many dates with Dani and that was something she didn't want to be reminded of tonight. No, tonight she wanted to forget about all of it.

"Cute but no."

Quinn sighed and put the dress back.

"I've literally shown you every dress in the closet, Santana. You have to like at least one of them. At one point you must have liked all of them since you bought the damn things."

"I do like them. They're just not right."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "God, you're difficult."

"Shut up, you love it." Santana quipped, turning her attention to the magazine she'd been flicking through for inspiration. Even the dresses in there weren't right. They were all too short or not short enough or the wrong colour or shape. She was bored of it and she didn't even want to go to the stupid party.

"Do we have to go?" She asked Quinn who was now sitting cross legged on the floor, rifling through various shoes at the bottom of the closet, trying to find an actual matching pair.

"Yes, Rachel was nice enough to invite us and they'll be free alcohol."

"But it's Rachel Berry. And her house. And all of her stuff. It's probably all pink. Oh, god why are we doing this?"

"Come on, Santana. She's not that bad."

Santana's mouth fell open.

"Back the fuck up, Q. What did you just say?"

Quinn looked at her and gave a nonchalant shrug. "I said she's not that bad."

Santana shook her head in disbelief. "Wow. Okay. Two years ago you were drawing ridiculous pictures of her on bathroom walls and throwing insults at her like y'all were in a constant game of dodgeball. Only she lost and got smacked in the face by every single one of them. And now she's not that bad? You've changed, Quinn. I don't even know you anymore. Next you'll be telling me that Sam isn't weird and Lady Hummel is actually kinda cool."

Quinn smiled. "Oh, stop being so dramatic. Not everyone hates people as much as you."

"Yes they do!" Santana was kneeling now, leaning over the end of the bed. "You do, Quinn! That's why we're friends. We thrive on our mutual hate for everyone!"

Quinn was laughing properly now, forever amused by just how ridiculously theatrical her oldest friend could be.

"It's not funny!" Santana almost yelled but even she couldn't keep the laughter at bay. This is what she loved about hanging out with Quinn, they always ended up screaming absurdities at each other before dissolving into hysterical laughter for at least half an hour afterwards.

"Fuck you." Santana said, in between giggles and threw her magazine across the room, missing Quinn's face by half an inch. The blonde didn't even flinch and instead proceeded to laugh until she couldn't breathe.

"Quinn, for gods sake, you're going to give yourself a heart attack." Santana said, trying her best to be a little more serious which was increasingly difficult when she was being forced to watch her best friend practically roll around the floor, paralysed by increasingly harsh bursts of hysterical laughter.

Santana smiled and shook her head, getting up to look in her closet while Quinn attempted to regain control of her body. She ran her fingers along the dresses and found one that Quinn hadn't picked out. It was a deep pink and just short enough to be flirty but not short enough to be a hoe. It'd be perfect with chunky, black heeled boots and a leather jacket.

"This one?" She asked Quinn, who was finally breathing and wiping the humour induced tears from her eyes.

The blonde nodded. "Perfect. Do you know what Brittany is wearing?"

"What?"

"She's coming, right?"

"No." Santana said, pulling out a pair of boots.

"Why not?"

"Because I didn't ask."

"But Rachel said we could all bring a plus one, I thought you said you wanted her to go with you?"

"I do but I thought it'd be weird, y'know?" The Latina shrugged and dropped her eyes to the dress she was still holding. She pretended to be busy smoothing the non-existent creases out of it. "I'm her tutor, that's all."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Santana you've seen her every day since she came to Glee club. I've literally seen you text her at least fifteen times since I've been here. You're not fooling anyone, sweetie."

"I haven't been texting her." Santana said, becoming defensive. As soon as the words left her mouth the screen of her phone lit up and she glanced at it, knowing exactly who it was.

"Right." Quinn laughed.

Santana sighed. It was true. She had somehow managed to see Brittany every day for the past week. Mainly in the library at school, once at Natasha's dance class. She'd made excuse after excuse just to be able to see her. There was always something they forgot to go over or a worksheet she'd forgotten to give her or an equation she'd forgotten to mention. When they weren't together they'd text backwards and forwards constantly until one of them fell asleep. It was almost too much but Santana couldn't seem to stop.

"I'm just not ready for that kind of thing yet." Santana admitted quietly, sitting herself back on the edge of the bed.

"Ready for what, San? Ready for a friendship with a really sweet girl? She's really nice and it wouldn't hurt you to hang out with her properly once in a while. It's not a bad thing to have more than like, three friends."

Santana shook her head and played with a fraying rip in her jeans. If only it was friendship she was afraid of.

Quinn must have been watching her friends' reaction because she gave a little gasp of understanding. "Ah. That's not the problem, is it?"

"No." The Latina confessed.

Quinn let out a small, sympathetic sigh and sat down next to her smaller friend.

"Honey, not everyone will hurt you like Dani did, okay? Or Puck. Not everyone is a self-obsessed asshole."

"I know but I just-" She paused, not really knowing what she was trying to say. She didn't know what she wanted or needed. All she knew was that she wasn't ready. "I just need some time."

"It's been a year, Santana. Please, let yourself have some fun okay? For me?"

Santana shook her head, still convinced that whatever was going to happen would end up hurting her all over again.

Quinn took Santana's phone from the bed and held it out to her. Santana looked at it.

"Ask her." Quinn said quietly. She didn't know what exactly but something in Quinn's eyes told her that it would be okay. She trusted Quinn with her life and she would trust her on this. Besides, nothing had to happen if she didn't want it to. It was okay to be just friends.

* * *

><p>Brittany waited at her bedroom window, fidgeting nervously with the hem of her dress. It was pale blue and loose and made her feel like a girly girl. Something that she didn't often feel like when she was sweating her way through another dance class, hair matted and leggings sticking uncomfortably to her overheated skin. She'd styled her hair into gentle curls that matched the way the dress fell softly and she'd even gone as far as to use the new mascara she'd been saving for a special occasion.<p>

When Santana had texted her asking if she wanted to go to Rachel's party she'd very nearly rolled off the bed in her excited state and then proceeded to dance around the room with Lord Tubbington as her partner. She hadn't been invited to a party since she was five years old and even then it had been a messy affair, filled with sticky children and melted ice cream. She'd never been to a proper, grown up party.

She'd been dressed for an hour already and by the time she saw Quinn's car pull up at the end of the driveway, her excitement had turned to apprehension. She didn't know how to do the party thing. What if people thought she was weird?

But she didn't have time to dwell on it so instead she pushed it out of her mind and pulled on a short, denim jacket. She was careful walking down the stairs, aware that her black heels were much higher than the musical theater dance shoes she spent the majority of her time wearing but luckily for her, being used to the constant height meant that wearing regular heels didn't really affect her anymore.

She yelled a quick goodbye to her mom and closed the front door behind her.

Santana was reapplying her lipstick in the pull down mirror when Quinn let out a little gasp.

"What?" Santana asked, glancing at her friend out of the corner of her eye.

"Look." Quinn whispered.

Santana frowned and followed Quinn's eyes to the blonde that was making her way towards them.

"Holy shit." The words left her mouth before she could stop them. Brittany was walking down the driveway, all long legs and loose hair. Her pale blue dress got caught in the breeze and ruffled beautifully around her toned thighs and Santana couldn't help but stare. She looked like a completely different person. Gone were the pattered shirts and skinny jeans. Gone was the messily pulled back hair and flushed cheeks. And in their place was a graceful, grown up, tall as hell blonde girl who looked very much like she'd just stepped off the runway.

Santana had to bite her lip to distract herself and she smacked Quinn's leg who was snickering quietly next to her. "Not a word." She warned through gritted teeth as Brittany opened the back door.

"Hi, Britt." Santana managed to say without too much difficulty. "You look great."

Quinn snorted quietly but quickly disguised it with a cough when she saw the look on Santana's face.

"Thanks." Brittany said, the inside joke undetected.

Santana cleared her throat awkwardly. "You're welcome."

She saw Quinn smirk and resisted the urge to smack her again. Instead, she started out of the window and tried to forget about the insanely hot blonde who was sitting right behind her, humming along to the radio and drumming her fingers on the leather seat.

* * *

><p>The party had been in full swing for at least four hours and had quite possibly already peaked. People were already starting to fall into a lazier, quieter kind of drunk. Santana was sat on the couch, head between her knees and hands gripping the cushion beneath her. Brittany was next to her, keeping one eye on her and another on the half-hearted game of spin the bottle that was taking place on the floor in the middle of the room.<p>

Most of the Glee club were playing, laughing loudly at anything and everything. Other people Brittany didn't recognise wandered in and out of the room, drinks in hand, dancing awkwardly to whatever music Rachel had decided to play. Most of it was show tunes, much to Santana's disgust.

Santana had not handled this party well at all. As soon as they'd arrived she'd headed straight to the kitchen, pouring herself glass after glass of whatever she could find. Quinn had joined in at first but had stopped herself after missing her mouth and pouring an entire glass of vodka and coke down the front of her white babydoll dress. She'd cried over it for a good twenty minutes before deciding that she would only be drinking water for the rest of the night.

After that, they'd lost her in the crowds and Brittany had been left to deal with Santana who had spent the evening moving from babbled rants, Oscar worthy tears and hysterical laughter at an alarming rate. Brittany couldn't keep up and had instead decided to just make sure the Latina didn't do anything stupid. So far, she hadn't but there was still plenty of time.

Brittany heard Santana groan precisely at the same moment Rachel walked into the room, followed by a dishevelled looking Quinn.

"Santana, don't you dare puke on this carpet!" The small brunette yelled, panic rising in her already high pitched voice.

Brittany ignored her, more concerned about her increasingly pale friend. "San, are you okay?" She asked quietly, placing her hand on Santana's back.

The brunette didn't respond. Instead, a forceful wretch escaped her mouth.

"Santana I swear to God!" Rachel practically screamed.

"Come on," Brittany said, pulling Santana quickly to her feet. Santana heaved again and Brittany proceeded to almost drag her out of the room and into the hallway, all the time trying not to let Rachel's screeches about carpet cleaner distract her.

She wheeled Santana into the downstairs bathroom just in time for the brunette to empty the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

Brittany sighed quietly and gathered Santana's loose hair into her hand, holding it gently at the nape of her neck. "You're okay." She mumbled quietly, letting her free hand rub soothing circles on the Latina's back. "I got you."

In between heaves, Santana mumbled something that resembled the word sorry but Brittany couldn't be sure. She knelt down next to her and whispered that everything would be okay. She noticed fresh mascara stains on Santana's cheeks and couldn't help but think that they weren't because of the alcohol or the puking. Something deeper was going on with this girl. Something she wouldn't let anyone else see. Something that Brittany intended to help her with.

"Poor baby." Brittany mused out loud as another round of heaves gripped Santana's body, forcing the offending substance out of her.

"Baby?" Quinn's voice filled the bathroom and Brittany turned to see her standing in the doorway, eyebrows raised and amused smirk perfectly in place.

Brittany blushed, realising that the term had slipped out of her mouth without her even noticing.

"I'm just teasing." Quinn smiled and set a glass of water down on the edge of the sink for Santana. "Is she okay?"

Brittany nodded. "She will be."

Santana coughed quietly and Brittany felt her body relax slightly beneath her hand.

"You done?" Brittany asked.

"Yeah." Santana said quietly, her voice raspy. She sat up and lent back against the wall, closing her eyes and wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.

Brittany's hand was still tangled in her hair and she decided not to move it. Instead, she pulled her fingers through the loose waves gently, twirling small sections around her fingers.

"Here, drink this." Quinn said, handing her the glass of water.

"No." Santana mumbled.

"It'll make you feel better." Quinn tried again, pushing the glass against Santana's lips.

Santana turned her head away. "Stop." She growled. "Before I throw up all over you."

"Fine." Quinn giggled, used to the stubbornness.

"Babyyyy."

All three girls turned to look at where the whine had come from and saw Rachel, leaning sloppily against the door frame, trying her best to hold onto her red plastic up without spilling its contents all over the floor.

"Baby can you come get a glass for me? I can't reach the cupboard." The tiny brunette slurred her words and held her hand out to Quinn.

"Sure, I'll be right there." Quinn smiled sweetly at Rachel who grinned and made her way back to the kitchen.

"Baby?" Brittany quipped, mimicking Quinn's tone as she turned to follow the smaller brunette.

"Shut your mouth." Quinn said with a smile, knowing she'd been caught out and not caring one bit.

"Please god tell me that wasn't a thing." Santana mumbled once they were alone again, eyes still closed.

"Totally a thing." Brittany giggled.

"God, that's disgusting."

"I think it's kinda cute." The blonde girl smiled at the thought.

"You would." Santana mumbled.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The blonde said, still smiling.

"Well you're all," Santana waved her arms around, searching for the right words through the alcohol induced haze. "Y'know, you're all fluffy and pink and baby animals and all of that cute shit."

Brittany giggled.

"And I'm just…" Santana coughed a little and lent towards the toilet again. "Not." She managed to choke out before she dissolved into a heaving, crying mess again.

"Santana, honey, come on. You're not even throwing anything up anymore. Just breathe."

Brittany placed her hand on Santana's forehead and tried to pull her back into a sitting position. She refused at first but after a few deep breaths she got a hold of herself and found herself staring into blue eyes. Blue eyes that matched the blue dress perfectly, she noted. Brittany moved her hand gently, allowing their foreheads to almost touch. Santana could feel the blondes breath on her cheek and swallowed hard. As she did, Brittany's eyes fell to her throat and then moved upwards slowly, settling finally on her lips. Santana didn't know why, but tears began to sting her eyes as she allowed her forehead to rest against Brittany's.

"Don't cry." Brittany whispered. "Please don't cry."

Santana shook her head a little, letting a tear fall. She couldn't stop herself any longer. She brought her hand to Brittany's cheek and cupped it gently. Lifting her own chin slightly, she tentatively closed the gap between their lips. She felt the blonde's breath hitch in her throat and she couldn't prevent hers from doing the same. Both of their mouths were open slightly, lips parted, waiting for each other to get used to the feelings. And then, as a sob threatened to escape her chest, Santana's lips closed instinctively against Brittany's. The taller girl was quick to respond, but so gentle. For a few perfect seconds, their lips moved together and everything was okay. Santana's senses were overwhelmed with Brittany. The soft smell of her perfume filled her nose and clouded her head. Her fingers that held Brittany's cheek tingled beautifully and the lips beneath hers made her heart hammer so hard in her chest that sure was sure the whole party would be able to hear it.

And then, somehow, her mind broke through the haze. Suddenly all the things she'd been afraid of were right there, signalling alarms and telling her to run away. As fast as she could. She was torn between the two.

She pulled back gently and forced herself to avoid those blue eyes. If she looked, she'd do it again.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, pressing her fingers to her mouth, hating the sudden lack of pressure against her lips. "I shouldn't have."

Brittany shook her head. "You should."

"No, I-" She looked around the room, resting her eyes on anything that wasn't Brittany. "Britt, I don't even know if you're-"

"I am." Brittany cut her off, understanding what she meant.

"Gay?"

"Bi." She said quietly, a small smile playing with the corners of her mouth.

Her only excuse gone, Santana flailed to find another. "I still shouldn't have. We barely know each other and I-"

She stopped talking as Brittany shifted forwards slightly, moving so that she was straddling Santana's outstretched legs. "Stop talking." Brittany said into her ear and for the first time in her life, Santana did as she was told. Having Brittany so near made every nerve in her body relax and she let her head drop back against the wall. Brittany took her face in both hands and within a few seconds, their lips were reconnected and everything else melted away.

* * *

><p>Santana woke up on a couch that wasn't hers in a house that looked nothing like her own. In those first few seconds she didn't know much, but she knew her head hurt like hell and she knew that there was an arm draped lazily over her waist. She also knew who it belonged to and despite herself, she smiled. She thought then that this was the first she'd ever woken up hungover with her memoires pretty much intact, next to someone she actually wanted to be next to. There was no moment of sheer panic, no dead weight of sweaty male slung over her, crushing her sore body. No regrets. Not yet, anyway. In that moment, she knew that she wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world.<p>

The body next to hers shifted slightly and suddenly, those blue eyes were hovering over her.

"Good morning." Brittany whispered and placed a soft kiss on Santana's lips.

A quiet moan escaped her throat and before she could stop herself, she was deepening the kiss, pulling Brittany down on top of her.

"Guys, please. This hangover is enough to make me throw up, we don't need to see you two sucking each other's faces too." The voice belonged to Quinn. Quinn who neither of them were aware was even in the same house, let alone the same room.

Santana jumped and the girls separated immediately. Brittany giggled and Santana blushed furiously as she took in the room around her. Quinn and Rachel were handing out glasses of water to the majority of the Glee club who were sitting on the floor, wrapped in blankets and looking sorry for themselves.

"Yeah, you two are cute and all but for the love of god, please don't." Mercedes said, gratefully taking a glass of water from Rachel.

"Whatever." Santana smirked, no longer stinging from the initial humiliation. She instead turned over so that her face was buried in Brittany's shoulder and the offending bright lights and glee club members could no longer affect her headache.

Brittany instinctively wrapped her arms around the brunette and kissed her hair gently. It took exactly three seconds for Santana to fall asleep again. She counted.

* * *

><p>An hour later Brittany had managed to untangle herself from the sleeping brunette and was sitting at the breakfast counter in the kitchen eating pancakes and syrup with Rachel and Quinn. The sun was shining prettily though the large window and Brittany couldn't seem to keep the smile off her face.<p>

Quinn and Rachel were happier than they had been earlier too, hangovers lifting and memories of last night filtering back into their minds. In fact, Brittany had noted that neither of the girls had spent very long without a smile on their face that morning.

"So," Quinn started through a mouthful of pancake. "You and Santana, huh?"

"I guess so." Brittany said, biting her lip to dull her smile slightly.

"I totally called it weeks ago." Quinn announced, pride punctuating her words.

"You did?"

"Yep. Honestly, Britt. She hasn't stopped talking about you. Every time I see her it's all Brittany this, Brittany that. Brittany's a dancer, Brittany knows first aid, Brittany's been to Africa." Quinn rolled her eyes playfully.

"Oh." Brittany felt a blush rising in her cheeks and she dipped her eyes.

"The way she smiled at you this morning. I haven't seen her smile like that since- well, I haven't seen her smile like that in a long time."

"I'm glad she's happy." Brittany said, "She seems so sad sometimes."

Just then, she felt warm arms encircle her waist from behind and a kiss was placed delicately on her cheek. "Who's sad?" Santana's voice was raspy and thick with sleep but it vibrated beautifully against Brittany's skin. She was so distracted by it, she wasn't even sure what she'd said.

"Tina." Quinn jumped in smoothly.

"Hmm." Santana hummed in agreement, giving Brittany a quick squeeze before taking the seat next to her and simultaneously taking half a pancake from her plate.

"Heyy." Brittany giggled. "Share."

"Ugh, fine." Santana smiled, taking a bite out of the stolen pancake before handing it back to Brittany.

"So," Rachel began to ask. "Are you guys like, officially girlfriends now?"

As soon as the words left her mouth, Quinn choked harshly on a piece of pancake and Brittany's eyes widened at the question. She looked at Santana whose smile had disappeared. The Latina fidgeted uncomfortably as Rachel awaited an answer.

"I, uh…" Santana started and Brittany held her breath.

Santana glanced at the blonde. She knew what she wanted her to say. Her eyes were almost pleading with her, willing her to say it. But Santana meant what she had said last night. They barely knew each other and although she wanted to keep trying with Brittany, she wasn't ready for official labels. She wouldn't be ready for that until they knew each other inside out, back to front. She wanted to take Brittany on dates. She wanted to do it properly and she wanted to do it really, really slowly. Kissing didn't mean girlfriends. She wouldn't fall into that trap again.

"I have to pee." She lied, standing up and leaving the room. She couldn't bring herself to say those things to Brittany, not when she was looking at her like that.

"What the fuck, Rachel?" She heard Quinn growl at the tiny brunette.

"I was only asking!"

Santana shook her head and walked up the stairs, securing herself in the safety of the large bathroom.

She looked at herself in the brightly lit mirror and sighed. Her hair had matted itself at the ends and hung limply at her waist, there were several stains on her pink dress and only half of her makeup was still intact. She grabbed the makeup bag that she and Quinn had brought with them and put in the bathroom early last night in case of emergencies and emptied the contents of it onto the side of the sink. She washed her face quickly, removing the remaining mascara and powder before starting all over again. She was too lazy to do the full works, so she settled for a quick coat of mascara and some lip balm.

She found one of Rachel's hair brushes in a cabinet and pulled it through her hair as gently as she could, battling with the thick tangles. Her mind wandered to Brittany briefly and she felt her stomach flutter. She hadn't wanted to like this girl. She wanted to stay well away from all girls. Anything that cause her pain, she didn't want. But there was something about Brittany. Something about her gentle nature. Something about the way she relied on Santana, as her tutor and her friend. It made her feel wanted. Helpful. For once, she wasn't the one being dependent. And it felt different. Better.

But still. She wasn't prepared to rush into things. They'd only known each other for two weeks. She wanted to try and she wanted the cute stuff but she didn't want it to mean too much. Not yet.

The brush pressed against the palm of her hand and stung briefly. She looked down at it, realising that she'd discarded the now much smaller band aid somewhere last night so now the burn was exposed. It was healing properly but it still hurt like hell sometimes. Even more so without the numbing effect of the alcohol.

She pulled her hair into a quick, messy ponytail before rifling through the wall cabinet, looking for some kind of painkillers. She pulled out a box that had a name she recognized and she was just about to pop a one out of its packaging when there was a knock at the door.

"Santana?" Brittany's voice was soft and cautious and it made Santana's stomach clench. "It's just me."

She smiled a little and unlocked the door, pulling it open.

"Hey, you." She said, giving the blonde a warm smile. Brittany looked like she was about to dissolve into tears as she stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

"Did you really need to pee?" She asked, looking directly at the floor and nowhere else.

"No." Santana said, perching on the edge of the bath tub and taking two pills out of their packaging. "I just didn't want to say anything in front of those two idiots." She kept her voice light, trying to limit the chances of making the blonde cry.

"It's okay if you don't like me like that." The blonde almost whispered. Santana detected a small quiver in her voice. "I understand."

"Hey, shush." Santana said, motioning for Brittany to sit down next to her. She did and Santana took both of her hands and held them gently in her lap. "I do like you, Brittany."

"You do?" The blonde looks up, her eyes glistening with the threat of tears.

"Yes. I really, really do. But I can't rush into things, okay? Not with you. I've done that too many times before and if we do it, one of us is gonna end up getting hurt."

Brittany nodded and let Santana continue.

"I can't get hurt like that again, Britt. It almost killed me. And I sure as hell won't let you get hurt like that."

"So you don't think we're a good idea?" Brittany questioned quietly, a flash of panic crossing her features briefly.

"I think we're a great idea. But I need to do it slowly. I need to know you and I need both of us to be comfortable." Santana squeezed Brittany's hands. "Is that okay?"

"Yes." The taller girl whispered, knowing exactly what Santana meant.

"So, what do you say we spend some time together, hmm? We'll hang out and go on dates and all of that stuff. Just you and me. No stupid text books or glee club kids getting in the way. Sound good?"

Brittany smiled then, feeling her heart lift quickly when she'd be so afraid it was about to sink. "Sounds good." She nodded.

"Can I still kiss you?"

Santana couldn't help but laugh. "I guess that would be okay."

"Good." Brittany smiled and kissed Santana's lips quickly.

Santana pouted a little. "Is that all I get?"

"For now."

_**Thanks for reading! Please review if you have time :)**_

_**xoxo**_


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